For Bex, via Gift Tag
Word Count: 2040
i.
They tell him that Harry Potter is special, but no one can tell him why. But, at the end of July one year, Kingsley is awakened.
"A guardian angel?" he asks, dark brows raising. "We both know that I am so much more than that."
He is a warrior. No one quite knows their full destiny, but Kingsley knows that he is meant to lead an army of angels. Guardian angels are all well and good, but he is not one.
Albus shakes his head. "Today, you are."
And that settles it. When an official order comes, one cannot question it. Kingsley nods. "So be it."
…
There is nothing particularly extraordinary about Harry Potter. Over the millennia, Kingsley has seen his fair share of human babies, and Harry is just like the rest of them. Small, squished in the face, and screaming so much that Kingsley has to cover his ears.
He kneels in front of the newborn, wings outstretched. "It's okay," he says, and he wonders if it helps. Truth be told, he has no idea how humans actually work. "Everything is okay."
The baby reaches out, fingers curling around one of Kingsley's feather. The angel winces, but he doesn't protest. At least it seems to make the boy happy.
ii.
Harry Potter is a strange boy, and weird things always seem to happen around him. Maybe Kingsley can understand why he would be assigned to the boy. He may not be a guardian angel, but he is one of the best in his order. As often as Harry finds himself in trouble, it's clear that Harry needs a higher level of protection.
He's lost track of all the times he's had to intervene with the boy. The pack of feral dogs, a nasty ice skating incident where the ice cracked and trapped him beneath, the boa constrictor at the zoo escaping and mistaking Harry for a tasty meal.
Kingsley doubts Harry would be alive without him.
…
"He isn't normal, is he?" Kingsley asks.
Kingsley knows that no human is truly normal, but Harry seems to really push the envelope. It's as though the universe is working against him. Under ordinary circumstances, Kingsley might be able to dismiss it and call it a great big coincidence, but he knows better. He knows all about the hand that pulls the strings of fate. The only reason someone would be tested like this is to make sure he's worthy.
"Always so clever," Albus says, bright blue eyes twinkling. "Harry is destined for great things."
"What sort of things?"
He doesn't expect Albus to answer, and yet he is still disappointed when the old just chuckles and continues walking. "What sort of world would we live in if everyone knew everything that was going to happen?" he asks. "It is for the best that we maintain some ignorance."
Kingsley snorts. "If you say so, boss."
iii.
When Harry is sixteen, things change. He's crossing the street when a car comes speeding out of nowhere. Kingsley doesn't even hesitate before launching into action. Anyone who might be watching would only see Harry suddenly pick up his pace before tucking and rolling onto the pavement. They wouldn't see the way Kingsley's golden wings erupt from his back, shrouding them so that nothing can touch them as he tackles Harry and knocks him to safety.
The teenager looks up, wincing as he adjusts his glasses. His arm is scraped and bleeding, but it could have been so much worse.
"You have wings this time."
It catches Kingsley off guard. He glances over his shoulder, as though some other human with a winged costume might be approaching. Of course, there isn't.
"Yeah, I'm talking to you."
Kingsley looks back at him. "You can see me?"
Harry snorts, emerald eyes rolling. "Of course, I can! Hard not to notice some tall, dark, and handsome bloke saving my life for the past sixteen years."
"That should be impossible…"
"Yeah? Why?"
"Maybe we should go somewhere else first."
…
"An angel?" Harry asks incredulously. "You're an angel? Angels are real?"
"Yes," Kingsley answers calmly as Harry fixes himself a peanut butter sandwich.
"Damn."
Kingsley chuckles. All things considered, Harry is taking it surprisingly well. Most people don't know how to handle actually discovering the truth about angels.
"Why me?" Harry asks, setting the knife in the sink.
"You're special."
"Why?"
Kingsley hates admitting that he doesn't know, but all he can do is shrug. It's the mystery that has bugged him for so long, and he isn't any closer to understanding it himself.
After several moments of silence, Harry just nods and nibbles his sandwich. "Okay."
"Okay?"
The human shrugs. "I reckon I don't have a choice. I'm supposed to do something great, so okay. I'll figure it out."
iv.
At nineteen, Harry receives his badge. Kingsley is there at the ceremony, standing in the back, even though he knows he won't actually be in the way.
Harry meets his eye and grins proudly. I did it, he mouths.
Kingsley nods and gives him a thumbs up.
…
Harry grips Kingsley's shoulders, pulling him close. Their lips meet, and Kingsley's eyes widen as he tries to comprehend what's happening. He knows what a kiss is and why humans do it, but he isn't a human. Angels aren't supposed to have these types of experiences. And yet, it feels so right, and he melts into the touch.
Kingsley shakes his head and pulls away. He can still feel Harry's lips against his own. "What was that?"
"A kiss," Harry says dryly. "Don't angels do that sort of thing?"
"No, we don't."
A cheeky grin tugs at Harry's lips. "So… I was your first kiss?"
That's all it takes. The tension leaves Kingsley's body, and he laughs.
Kingsley has never been the type to doubt or question, but he finds himself wondering how relationships with humans can be a bad thing. Aren't angels supposed to love and serve mankind anyway? Why shouldn't they take it a little farther?
"We shouldn't do this," Kingsley murmurs, trying to remember that he has rules to follow.
Harry shrugs. "We're celebrating," he says. "I'm a police officer now, just like my dad."
Somehow, that's enough of a reason, and Kingsley allows himself to give in again.
v.
It isn't right, and Kingsley knows it. He doesn't care. There's something about Harry that makes Kingsley willing to risk damnation.
No one should make him feel that way, but it's so bloody hard to resist. The strangest thing, though, is realizing that he doesn't want to. There's something so sweet about the temptation, and he keeps coming back for more.
…
"I've been keeping you busy," Harry chuckles as he grabs a beer from the fridge.
It's a laughable understatement. Harry has been shot at and attacked so many times that it's a miracle he's made it to twenty-eight.
"You're worth it."
With a laugh, Harry shakes his head. "You're only saying that because it's your job," he says before taking a sip of beer. "I think I'm going to try something different."
"What of different?"
Harry sits at the kitchen table in silence for several seconds. He drains half his bottle before setting it down. "I don't know if law enforcement is what I'm meant to do," he says. "I thought so because it's in my blood, but…" He shakes his head. "Maybe I should go into politics."
Kingsley reaches out and rests his hand on Harry's. "Whatever you think is best. I will support you."
vi.
Harry proves to be insanely popular on the campaign trail. Kingsley follows along, and something swells within his chest.
This is it. The universe has been pushing and pulling, and it's finally starting to make sense. This is what Harry is destined to do. It's only a matter of time before his destiny is fulfilled and he no longer needs Kingsley.
It should make him happy to know he'll be asleep again soon, waiting for new orders. Instead, his heart drops to his stomach. This will be over, and he will have to walk away.
…
"Why so quiet?" Harry asks as they sit down to a steak dinner Harry has ordered them.
Angels don't need to eat, but Kingsley enjoys it. Tonight, however, his mind is too troubled. He tries not to show it, but it's hard. "No reason," he says, grinning as he lifts his wine glass. "To us."
"To us," Harry echoes.
vii.
"You know we are not meant to fall in love with them," Albus says as he and Kingsley take a stroll in the park.
Kingsley wonders if it will do any good to deny it. Before he can even reach a decision, Albus continues.
"I was in love with a human once," he says. "A young man named Gellert."
"What happened?"
Albus' lips quirk. "He broke my heart. Be careful, Kingsley."
…
Kingsley tries to keep his distance, but he can't seem to stay away.
"Have you seen this?" Harry asks. "Tom Riddle thinks he's so clever. Trying to take away the working class' rights. I won't stand for it!"
Kingsley can't help but smile. This is what it's all been for. After forty-three years of wondering, he finally knows what's so special about Harry Potter. He is good and kind and genuinely cares about the people.
"What's so funny?"
Kingsley leans in and kisses Harry's cheek. "Nothing." He smiles as he pulls away. "Just thinking about how wonderful you are."
viii.
When it ends, his heart breaks. Harry goes to toe with Tom Riddle and, against all odds, wins.
There's no official message, no great sign that his work is done. Kingsley can feel it take him over, and he sighs. If only he could have more time.
…
"Will I see you again?" Harry asks.
Kingsley wants to lie to him. Seeing the pain in those emerald eyes is too much, and he would do anything to make things better.
But he is not cruel. "I'm sorry," he says.
Harry offers him a small smile. "We had a good run," he says quietly.
Kingsley nods and takes his hand. "Yeah," he agrees. "We did."
ix.
He doesn't go to sleep. It's part of his duty to become dormant until he is needed again, but Kingsley can't bring himself to do it.
"It will drive you mad, dear friend," Albus cautions.
"I don't care."
…
Harry does well for himself. It breaks Kingsley's heart to know that he can't be a part of it, but he still watches.
Harry marries a man named Draco, and they look so happy together. A month after their wedding, they adopt their first child. A few years later, they welcome a second child into their home.
Harry never loses the goodness in his heart. He stays in politics, and he remains a champion for good, always fighting for the people.
Kingsley couldn't be more proud.
x.
The news comes, and it feels like everything is falling apart. Kingsley shouldn't know at all, but Albus is kind enough to tell him.
"You're sure?" Kingsley asks.
Albus nods. "It is written," he answers. "Not long now. I'm sure no one would notice if you were to visit him."
"That's against the rules."
Albus offers him a knowing smile. "That's never stopped you before."
…
At eighty-seven, Harry is almost unrecognizable. He is thin and frail, and his skin is paper-thin.
"You just got old right in front of my eyes," Kingsley says.
"I thought…" Harry struggles for breath. "I thought I would never see you again."
Kingsley struggles to find the words to say. Nothing seems to fit, so he just smiles and sits beside Harry, holding his hand.
"Draco went first," Harry tells him. "Looked so peaceful. Does it hurt?"
"Just like falling asleep," Kingsley says, voice quivering with emotion.
Harry smiles at that. He leans back, eyes closing. "I'm glad you're here," he says. "I'm glad I don't have to be alone."
And as Harry takes his last breath, a tear falls from Kingsley's eyes. He's spent decades protecting Harry, but, in the end, death is the last enemy, and he is powerless.