Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, eventual mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is a her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

Chapter 2

Over the next two weeks, Harry didn't really notice much. As routine dictated, he would go straight to the third music room straight after the last class of the day was over and sequester himself in the small side room that the Host Club had allowed him to use (on occasion he would drop by the library or something before hand). Sometimes, if the small blond (Harry learned the boy was really seventeen years old – a shocking proclamation – named Haninozuka Mitsukuni. Everyone called him "Hani") would enter in the hour before the Host Club started and invite Harry to eat cakes with him and "Takashi" (the tallest Host and Hani's cousin/protector, Morinozuka Takashi, who everyone simply called Mori). Harry always declined.

He had noticed, vaguely, when Ootori had been setting up a false Bali with his security detail in the room the Monday after "the revelation" of Fujioka's true gender. There had been a buzz about school about a "Christmas ball" thrown by the Host Club (it was April... the cherry trees were blooming for crying out loud!), and the day after the ball itself Haruhi had been seen around the apartment complex with a crutch and sprained ankle. Harry gave her a potion for the pain that he claimed would stimulate healing... in reality it healed her ankle completely, but he couldn't tell her that. He also gave her and her father some of his baked goods because chocolate made everything better (provided one listened to Remus Lupin and Sirius Black on the matter, that is).

After that a weird girl from France had joined class 1-A. Two days after that, Haruhi had yet another fangirl to deal with, but Harry wasn't really paying attention to anything going on with them much. It was far too bothersome. Instead, he continued reading from his texts. On the rare occasion that one of the Hosts would want to speak to him while he was encroaching on their space, none of them noticed that he was usually reading books on magic unless he was doing homework. Probably because they were written in English, or maybe they just didn't care to look through a Japanese-to-English dictionary to see what it said. Harry didn't care.

No, he was busier than that. If he wasn't in class studying his school subjects (he thanked Hermione's non-existent ghost for instilling good study habits in him), or in the music room studying magic (he could only practice at the apartment, sadly), then he was "at home" cooking. Usually baking, since he had to keep a steady supply of chocolate-y things for Sirius to munch on. Sometimes he made extra things, a batch of cookies or a spare cake, but eventually he recognized that all the baking was mostly a waste. He ended up donating a large quantity of cookies to a nearby Orphanage on top of the monetary donations that he had made as soon as he found out the state of the place. The neighbors all liked the sweets, too.

The business deal with the Shadow King of the Host Club went well. Harry ended up trading one hundred assorted potions per month for the right to use the side room, and while he recognized it as exorbitant, they were all potions that contained only muggle ingredients and from his private stock. It wouldn't be detrimental to his company, and he got so many potions every week to keep his cupboard stocked that the bathroom cabinet had been stretched to be larger than his own bedroom.

However, he felt that he owed something to the rest of the club as well, since he was intruding on all of them and not just the Ootori heir. Harry soon found out about Suou's fascination with all things "commoner" (it made his blood boil because, although the sentiment reminded him of Arthur Weasley – who had been decent, unlike his two youngest children – he treated "commoners" in a very condescending manner) and arranged to have a bunch of "commoner" foods and items delivered to the second Suou Mansion for him. The others, for the most part, weren't much more difficult.

Fujioka was given a platter of fresh ootoro "anonymously" one evening with two fashionable boys' outfits. The Hosts, particularly Suou and the Hitachiin Twins, were enchanted with the girl, and if they intended to take her anywhere she would almost definitely have to wear boys' clothes. She might as well look good when they did, if only to keep up her reputation.

Upon asking Ootori, he found that the Twins enjoyed games. Knowing that they wouldn't have played any that he was familiar with, if only by name, Harry sent them a bunch of board games (including six different versions of Monopoly) and a book of card games. The next time he saw them, they were playing a game of Slap Jack and adding it into their Twincest thing before class.

Perhaps the easiest to please was Hani. All Harry had to so was bake him a cake, though he decided to make it an interesting one. (Since it kept Sirius off his back for a few hours, he was extra happy.) A triple layer Devil's Food Cake with strawberry jam in between and double chocolate icing with puréed strawberries mixed in and a few on top as well made the masterpiece cake complete. He'd tried something similar in December, at Sirius' request. Harry hadn't been able to do much more than twitch for an hour after the first bite. When Hani ate the "Death By Chocolate" cake with little more reaction than a wide-eyed pause after the first bite, Harry could only stare in shock as he actually managed to eat the entire rich, chocolaty baked good.

Where the smallest Host was easy to please, it was his very-tall compatriot who Harry had no idea what to do for. All that the youngest potential heir of the Ootori empire could tell him was that Mori liked Kendo, Japanese History, Geography, and helping Hani. In the end, Harry bought a rare volume about Japanese history at an auction (which he thought was horridly convenient, since Sirius was the one to drag him there). So far as he could tell, Mori hadn't disliked the gift, but he couldn't read the older boy very well.

The final gift had been a string of honey blossoms, charmed to never wilt, for Hani's Usa-chan. The Hosts continued to puzzle over how they stayed in bloom for weeks after, making up stories about how he must be going into Hani's house at night and replacing the flowers while Hani simply took it for what it was - unexplainable - and didn't bother helping with the conspiracy theories.

Since he'd made the mistake of delivering Hani's gifts during club hours, he'd gone deaf in one ear (the opposite one from the incident in September) from the sheer volume of the fangirl squeals. Apparently it was a very cute gesture for him to give the older boy a cake and giving a gift to Usa-chan as well. By the end of the day, Ootori had thanked Harry for increasing the number of customers for the day as the girls had called in other Hani-fangirls after the display.

Another few days went by with semi-minimal chaos. Apparently a pervert had broken into the school during the first year physical examinations (Harry had to have a full physical since his had been "lost" before it got to Ouran or the Ootori hospitals. In reality, he'd never had a muggle physical), but again, Harry didn't care.

The first time something happened that he really did care to notice was four days before Golden Week was to begin.

Nekozawa Umehito was from class 3-A with Mori and Hani. He was also, to most people, extremely creepy due to his love for the occult, a penchant for wearing an ominous black cloak, and his creepy cat puppet, Berezenef. Harry had dropped by the second library after class to look for a new book to read and return the one he'd most recently borrowed and was later than usual on his way to the music room. He hadn't really noticed when a figure draped in a black cloak entered the room ahead of him.

What he did notice was the semi-creepy voice that left the figure as he stood, only his head poking into the room, as well as a hand with a cat-eared puppet.

"If you like toys, please join my club," he said, voice low and almost oily. Yet Harry could hear, of all things, a hint of pleasure in the voice, almost as if he were voicing a little heart at the end of the sentence. But that was absurd; only Suou did that. "Currently we're organizing the world's ancient magical artifacts exhibition. If you join us now, we will also throw in a wonderful cursed voodoo doll for you folks. We hold mass every day too." Harry stared at the back of the cloaked head that was in his way to his special study area. There were mutterings on the other side of the door before a sudden burst of light shown through.

"What's a cursed voodoo doll?" It was the Hitachiin twins then. Harry guessed this one was Kaoru, but he wasn't sure. He was slightly more interested in watching the dark boy recoiling from the concentrated beams of two flashlights that were being shown in his face (that would make anyone recoil).

"What about this much light?" The other twin (Hikaru?) asked blithely. "Can you take it?" (1)

With that the twins slammed the doors shut and the figure ran into Harry, sending them both sprawling. Harry groaned, pulling out from under the other, and then helped him up as well.

"Sorry about the idiot brigade," Harry apologized in their stead before the apparently photophobic boy could run off again. The cat-doll looked rather limp in on his hand, as if it had been harmed by the light and was exhausted in some way. For some reason, Harry felt he shouldn't be too surprised if that were the case. "I'm Potter Harry, from class 1-A."

From the dark folds of the cloak, the other boy's lower face emerged, and then the upper as the unoccupied hand brushed away strands of dark hair to reveal surprisingly clear blue eyes. Eyes that had flicked up to Harry's forehead. "Nekozawa Umehito. 3-A. Would you like to join the Black Magic Club?"

Harry paused, thinking. Firstly, this person had undoubtedly heard his name before and knew of his scar. Second, this person wanted him to join a club for black magic. He supposed, depending on what that actually entailed, he might reveal that he did know what the other boy was doing when he had latched his eyes to the foreigner's forehead. Momentarily grateful that muggle make-up did a wonderful job of hiding his scar and thus lending some doubt to the situation, he shrugged.

"What kind of magic are we talking here? Divination? Potions-craft? Healing, curses, Wicca, charms, befuddlement, warding..." he paused, noticing that the eerie smile had grown wider on the other boy.

"We try to dabble in everything, though one of our specialties is fortune-telling," Nekozawa admitted. "For squibs such as those in the club, there is little to be done with our paltry magicks." Harry's eyes widened. While the word came out more like "su-ku-i-bu," there was no mistaking what the older boy was saying. This muggle (squib?) knew of magic and of him.

"So we aren't talking actual Dark Arts, right? No murder, domination of free will, or pain curses?" He asked curiously.

"It is the Black Magic Club only in name, Potter-kun," Nekozawa's tone was that of someone reassuring another of intentions. The young wizard thought on it for a moment. He could at least look into it, and it wasn't like he was desperate to read his latest Charms text or anything.

"Lead the way, Nekozawa-senpai," Harry nodded, "but I'm not making any promises... and if I do join I am not wearing a cloak to school, especially this time of year. It must be a hundred degrees under that thing..." he paused as they started walking. "Unless you have a cooling charm under there?" There was a slight nod from the puppet, and Harry shut up. There was nothing more to be said.

After spending the day with the Black Magic Club, Harry had come to understand them, to an extent. They were all from old wizarding families, though they had too little magic to be classified as witches or wizards by actual magical people, and too much to be anything but to muggles. They were high-powered squibs, but squibs none the less. Nekozawa's family (his magic was from his mother's side) traditionally attended Durmstrang, but he was a second generation squib. The rest would have gone to various Japanese schools.

In the end, they did manage to convince Harry to join, though he declined the "cursed voodoo doll" since it was all for show and kind of creepy. He did, however, get to re-charm some things in the room for them, including an old-fashioned deck of tarot cards and some never-melt candles that were flagging, which was some pretty good practice. With the pledge to attend every Tuesday and Thursday, and accepting the invitation from Nekozawa to visit his beach-front property to help with a boggart in one of the guest room wardrobes (and visit the beach for the first time in his life) during the week long break, he went up to the third music room to finish out the last hour of the school being open to students to read.

He rather wished he hadn't. Apparently, Fujioka had sparked some argument between their year-mates with a careless comment. The pair were on separate ends of the room, turning only occasionally to glare at one another, and fangirls were watching... in increased numbers. Apparently a familial civil war was just as attention drawing as forbidden brotherly love. About five minutes into his attempted study time, Harry left in a huff, not even bothering with the train and simply going to an alley and apparating back to the flat, intent on doing something productive.

The next day was no better on the front of the Twin Hosts, as they dyed their hair outrageous colors and threw things at one another. It was around lunch that Harry realized that they were faking it, and proceeded to ignore them accordingly – Fred and George had been far different in their one fight that Harry had witnessed. They had gotten over it by the next day, and the day after that – the Friday before the break – the Host Club was closed for some reason or another.


Two days after that, Harry had packed an overnight bag for a couple of days with a spare swimsuit, some extra-strength magical sunscreen, and a few books to entertain himself with if he got bored of the beach while he was there after taking care of the boggart. He wondered what his boggart might be now. Was he still most afraid of Dementors, or would he see Sirius sprawled on the ground, soulless or worse? He had come to care, in a detached sense, for the Host Club as well. He feared what he might do if he saw Hani, innocent, precocious (older than him) Hani, dead and bleeding on the ground. Of them all, he had to admit that the small blond was his favorite – it was impossible to not like the kid. He wasn't annoying like three of the others Hosts, nor was he unreadable like Mori and Kyouya, and while Haruhi was sort of endearing in her own way, the girl was too similar to Hermione for him to want to know too much about her; it was simply too soon after the death of his only true friend.

Nekozawa picked him up a few hours after sun-up in a black Rolls Royce. While the neighbors stared in awe at the expensive car, many recoiled from the young man, drowning in black cloth, who stepped from it to greet Harry as he approached. The neighbors didn't actually know of his being rich, didn't know anything of him really, but Harry was contented with that. After Sirius had scoped out the country, Harry had decided on a location to have his Japanese home constructed - it was only an hour's drive from the flat, actually, discounting traffic - and headway was already being made.

The drive to the coast was a comfortable one. Nekozawa removed his cloak and wig for once; he and Harry talked about various things to do with magic, creatures they had encountered, and different theories they had heard of. Harry shared one of his books with the older boy, expelling the translation spell on the text so that he wouldn't have to puzzle through it slowly. He'd found interest in the magical history of Japan, and the volume was interesting.

"Oh, yes," Nekozawa said after a moment, suddenly remembering something as he glanced up from the book. "Potter-kun, the Host Club will be using my beach for the next few days, and their members staying in the house. I believe they invited customers to join them as well, though they will not be staying in the house." He was grinning, obviously looking forward to creeping out Suou.

"Aa, alright," Harry nodded. "Do you want me to deal with your boggart straight off? It's not a good idea to take them on after dark anyway." At the President of his only official club's nod, Harry continued going over his Charms text, especially interested in the charms for conjuring fire and water that was usually not taught until sixth year at Hogwarts, though an exception had been made for the simplest water charm.

Having never been to a beach and only seen it in postcards, Harry had no idea what he should actually expect. He knew a beach in Japan would be different than the one on Aunt Marge's postcard from Majorca, and that those picturesque scenes were probably one-in-a-million given the notorious temper of the sea and the unpredictability of weather on the shore, but it must have been a one-in-a-million day. The sun was shining on the scene with a vengeance, causing the water to sparkle. The sand was a beautiful golden color that he had never actually associated with sand, and there seemed to already be a crowd of girls and the Host Club present; the only odd thing was the giant cat-shaped cliff and cave.

"I'm definitely coming out here," Harry grinned when they left the car, reveling in the sweet, salty scent of the ocean as a slight wind blew in his face. "C'mon Nekozawa-senpai, I'll take care of that boggart now... just make sure you have some chocolate on hand, okay? I'm not entirely sure, but last time I went up against one it turned into a dementor. Just in case." The creepy senior's personal servants were already moving into the castle-like manor, likely going to take care of that request. Hopefully it wouldn't be too dark of a chocolate.

Harry was led up a staircase and into a bedroom, where he noticed his overnight bag already rested. Mildly surprised, he turned to Nekozawa, who indicated the wardrobe that was set against the wall before leaving the room. While numbers were advantageous, even a particularly slow boggart wouldn't be stupid enough to mix up a dementor and bright light together.

With one last look at the sun that shone merrily through the tall windows of Harry's designated room, he turned his full attention to the wardrobe and flicked his wand at it, allowing it to open slowly.

The effect was instantaneous. Suddenly, he was too hot, and something was drawing him into the half-open doors of the wardrobe. Harry's eyes widened. It was preying on his claustrophobia! Screwing his eyes shut and holding his wand in front of him, Harry concentrated. How could he make this funny? He could he laugh when he heard his Uncle's voice echoing in his ears, feel the encroaching closeness of his cupboard and the stuffy heat of air in a tiny room that stood right above the boiler?

Glaring suddenly at the opening, Harry shouted, "Riddikulus!" as loudly as he could. Instantly, the room became spacious again, the air cool, and the walls were padded with something white. At first Harry could only chuckle, but he was soon laughing hysterically until a loud pop sounded and filled the room with a thin, waspish smoke. He staggered to the window and opened it, filling the room with the scent of the sea, changed into his swim wear – black trunks with a silver and blue long-sleeve swim-shirt – and left the room to tell Nekozawa that the room was boggart-free.

The sand was hot between his toes and the air cool and damp in his lungs. The sun beat down on his skin – protected by "SPFmagic" brand sunscreen (a special brand marketed mostly for vampires) thankfully – and he could hear the sound of waves lapping against the coast. It was an amazing sound, but very broken. Nekozawa hadn't been lying when he said that the Hosts had brought some of their customers; it looked like all the regulars had come and brought friends. Sighing, Harry dropped his bag five feet out from the high-tide line and observed for a moment.

Suou was sitting on a rock with a blanket spread beneath him, romancing a girl Harry vaguely recognized as one of the boy's regulars. The Hitachiin twins were playing a game involving a net and a ball – Harry was pretty sure it was volleyball, but he wasn't sure. His primary P.E classes hadn't played, and he'd never had the opportunity, but he was pretty sure that was right. A lot of their regulars were playing, and a few other girls. Hani and Mori seemed to be entertaining a small cluster of girls, Ootori looked to be managing the time girls spent with the "King," and Fujioka was crouched on the ground, simply observing the goings on so far as Harry could tell.

"Hey, Harry-kun!" Harry turned to see one of the twins – he guessed Kaoru – waving him over at him. "What're you doing here?"

"I was invited," he stated simply. He glanced over at the other twin – Hikaru? – and looked back to the one who was approaching. "Are you sure you should leave Hikaru-san alone? From what I've seen, he might go overboard with something." Then Harry noticed that the volley ball (he assumed he was right) was resting by his feet and picked it up, pitching it back to the wayward twin. "You almost lost that one to the ocean, you know." Then Harry plopped down on the sand and reclined.

"You're supposed to lay a towel down on the sand when you do that," the twin snorted. From a short distance, he heard the second twin shouting "Hurry it up, Kaoru!" and Harry had the urge to smirk though he restrained it, instead giving himself a mental pat on the back. He was officially right when it came to which twin was which seventy percent of the time.

Kaoru, however, had not moved back and was instead leaning over Harry and blocking the sun. The wizard glared in a fashion that promised death, but the redhead was unaffected by the malevolence. He'd probably been around himself to often. As pounding footsteps came closer – Harry glanced to see Hikaru jogging over – Kaoru continued to study him before nodding sagely.

"You aren't short anymore, Harry-kun," he declared as his twin drew even with him. A scowl was added to the glare.

He'd been on nutrient supplements since his release from St. Mungo's in November, first to make his body healthy and deal with some health issues that he'd had, including mild lead and asbestos poisoning from his cupboard. Since about a week after starting at Ouran he'd been taking a potion that stimulated his body to produce growth hormone, though it hadn't kicked in until a week or so later. Not only was he finally over 5'1", but he'd grown four inches in the past month. Sadly, that was all the artificial growth he was allowed, or else his body wouldn't grow normally at all, but at least he wasn't a midget anymore and could pass for being fifteen.

"I think you're customers are waiting for the brotherly love," Harry snapped. Being short was still a bit of a sore point for him. "Now leave me be. I'm trying to enjoy my first trip to the beach; I believe part of the experience is lounging."

The twins laughed at him, but then Hikaru turned to his brother and put on some theatrics in a loud enough voice that the girls at the volleyball net about "how could he possibly ignore his brother for the other boy?" which set the girls to squealing. At the very least, Harry could be relieved that the girls weren't spending the night at Nekozawa's place; he doubted he'd be able to sleep for all the fangirlishness.

Idiots, Harry thought in a resigned manner as he watched from the corner of his eye. The twins met up with Suou, and they all seemed to be spying on Fujioka. Though the girl was only barely in his range of vision – he had discarded his glasses for contacts so he wouldn't lose them in the ocean – he noted that she was surrounded by girls who were no doubt starry eyed. It was pretty much expected for the Host Club's "Natural" type to charm girls without trying, even if she was secretly a girl herself.

Closing his eyes, Harry decided that having a nap before lunch sounded good... then maybe another nap... and he could go into the water sometime before dinner, though he would be careful about heading in too deep. It was a miracle he could stay afloat in the Prefect's bath (he'd been flailing then), and the lake at school had been worse. Both were quite tame compared to the force of the ocean, and swimming in it wouldn't be fun, especially without gillyweed and considering he didn't know how to swim.

The shriek of terror from Suou automatically put a damper on those plans as Harry levered himself back into a sitting position to glare in the blond's general direction. His vision was spotted with a vicious red-orange from seeing the sun through his eyelids, and it occurred to him that he probably shouldn't attempt to nap with contacts in, but Harry didn't much care right then. He lurched to his feet, marched the twenty paces to Suou, and glared at him huffily. Nekozawa was standing with Bereznoff, hiding under not only his cloak, but a black parasol as well.

Suou and the Twins were not looking his way however, as Nekozawa had pointed their attention to the cat rock. They all screamed "Haruhi!" and began running; Harry wondered how she had gotten into the cave mouth so quickly when he had only seen her a few minutes ago entertaining some of her regulars at the shoreline. Not that he really cared as her self-appointed worry-warts darted forward and "rescued" her from her mostly-safe position on the lower ledge.

"Great, first Suou-senpai surprises me right before I was going to fall asleep, and then he runs off before I can get payback," Harry scowled before turning to his club president with a sigh. "Couldn't you have picked a better time to scare him? I was all ready to have a nice nap."

"My apologies, Potter-kun," Nekozawa didn't seem terribly sorry as he said this, "but it was an opportune moment." Harry rolled his eyes and nodded, sighing. "You left before I could ask; how did the boggart go?"

"It... could have been worse," the younger of the pair admitted. "It wasn't a dementor this time, so I guess after all my encounters with them I must have finally gotten over that, but I'll admit I hadn't figured it capable of morphing into what it did. But it was easier, I think. It's a lot harder to laugh off a dementor." Nekozawa nodded from his safe shadowed spot. "You know, I brought the sunblock that vampire's use, if you want to come out from there. You'd be perfectly safe, and you'd surely scare Suou even more if he saw you without the get-up."

Nekozawa merely glared at him, blue eyes staring unblinkingly into deep green. Harry laughed at him before giving his farewell and wandering back to his bag. He really wanted that nap.

Author's Note: I'm trying to pack the series into a proper year, which is pretty difficult. Sacrifices to reality must be made.

I rather figured that Britain would be really stringent about magic, but Japan more lenient. Harry can perform magic, apparate, and whatnot, since he knows the risks, but cannot reveal magic to those who don't know without paying a 100 galleon fine (there is also the option of paying for said muggle to be obliviated).

Harry was a malnourished child, skinny and undoubtedly short. It would take time to get him to the point where forced growth wouldn't be harmful. I figured a few months would do it... and then I realized how that fit into the timeline, and it stuck. Therefore, he was still midgety before starting at Ouran, but he's sprouted up a few inches since then and is now only a bit below average height (in the States, I dunno about world-wide) for a girl. He will grow another inch or two, though it isn't much remarked upon.

(1) Dialogue taken from chapter five of the manga