Title: It's been a long time.

Summary: Harry doesn't want to fight the long-haired assassin, but he was terrorising the middle-schooler. He might not even help things, it's been a while since he'd fought... but he did always learn best in the thick of things.

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Harry munched on his pizza as he rolled a ball to Hibird. The canary chirped and hopped up to the ball as large as itself, before it nudged the fluffy toy back with its head. It took Harry a moment before he could breathe again, almost snuffed out by the adorableness.

Then Hibird started singing.

A wave of killer intent seeped through the house before it dug straight into Harry's spine and raced up and down the vertebrae.

He wolfed down the slice of pizza, swallowed the rest of his soda, and sprinted like his life depended on it. Which... yeah, it did. Good job, Harry, you're getting the hang of this simile thing.

Halfway to the back door a tonfa lodged itself into the wall directly in front of Harry's head, which caused him to drop to his knees in a power slide, the momentum carrying him under the tonfa before he leaped back to his feet.

He reached the door and flung it open, but instead of freedom he encountered pain. The knee that dug into his stomach made him curl up and the elbow to the back sent him into a collapsed heap on the floor.

He groaned in agony, perhaps a bit dramatically for how soft the hits had been, and shifted into a tight little ball at the feet of his attacker.

"And you just keep disappointing me," Hibari berated as he stepped over the troublesome herbivore and collected the tonfa from the wall on his way to the kitchen.

"To be fair, I honestly wasn't expecting you behind the door," Harry replied as he rose to his feet easily, and earned a glare for having faked. "How did you manage to throw the tonfa and then appear on the other end of the house, outside?"

Hibari grunted in reply, the standard shut up, Harry, as he tucked the tonfa into the gap between a bookshelf and a wall.

"Did you set up a trap?" Harry asked, bemused, and got a raised eyebrow for all his trouble. Harry once again admitted that Hibari was a sneaky little boy.

"Eat," Hibari ordered. "You owe me a fight, and I want you at your best."

"I got you a fight. With an assassin. With a sword." Harry gestured vaguely at the small cuts that split the Prefect's uniform. "What more do you want?"

"My assistant to actually do his paperwork," was the muttered answer.

"What?" Harry frowned at the quiet murmur, not having caught any of the words.

"Non-irritating herbivores, who do as they're told." Hibari gave Harry a pointed look. "Now eat."

"Eat, eat!" Hibird chirped out a demand, as the puffball soared overhead and landed on Hibari's lifted finger.

"I'm fine, I already ate." Harry waved off the order, and saw Hibari's smirk. Harry got the feeling he should have pretended to be starving, if only to stall the inevitable. Either way, he made a break for it.

Hibari lunged after him, got a tight grip on the back of Harry's shirt, and flung the teen into a kitchen chair. Harry gasped as the seat rocked back on two legs from his impact, and almost fell over if not for Hibari's foot planted on the edge, right in between Harry's legs. The chair thudded back on all fours. Harry squeaked.

"What is this?" Hibari shoved his phone into Harry's face, the screen displaying their text conversation.

Monday, 7:28pm

Here

Okay

Wednesday, 9:13am

Here

K

Thursday, 2:28pm

Here

No

If I have find you

I'm doing something

I'll bite you to death

I'm outside

Saturday, 4:19pm

There's an assassin here

Herbivores are crowding

Someone littered

Sleeping

There's a fine line between power and arrogance, and you're looking pretty shaky up there on your high horse

Harry gritted his teeth and flickered his eyes left to right like he was still reading to stall for time. He had completely forgotten he wrote that.

"You owe me a fight," Hibari said again.

"Nowhere did it say that I promised you a fight," Harry contested.

"No, but you were certainly begging for it."

Harry couldn't really say anything to that.

Harry hit the training mat with a jarring thud and didn't bother to try and get up again.

"Better," Hibari conceded, barely breathing heavily himself, but his arm was hanging at awkward angle from the surprise bear hug that transitioned into a death roll from Harry.

"I'd like sparring if I actually had a weapon," Harry said. "I'd love it even more if my wand worked."

Hibari grunted and his shoulder made a dull click sound as it popped back into place.

"No," Harry answered the grunt. "But I could learn to use one."

"Then learn."

"You're supposed to just agree with me that life sucks," Harry berated and turned to face Hibari from his sprawled position. "It's what friends do." He emphasised the word and smiled when Hibari shuddered in disgust.

The Prefect glanced over at where his tonfa had been abandoned when Hibari decided to choke the annoying parts out of Harry, and briefly wondered if he should punish the strange foreigner. He spied Harry out of the corner of his eye, the other teen having followed Hibari's line of sight, gulped when he remembered, and lifted a hand to rub at his still sore neck.

Hibari would let him off this time.

"You won't get anything done bemoaning the fact that you're alive," Hibari snapped. "So stop complaining and build yourself up better." He spun on his heel, but still caught the smile on the other boy's face.

Hibari hunched his shoulders as he stomped to the potions cabinet and sorted through Harry's chicken scratch hand writing for the light healing one. He took a mouthful and felt his shoulder stop hurting as he watched his light cuts seal over instantly, the others knitting together in scabs, already half healed. He heard Harry approach from behind and shoved the bottle at him.

"You know, my potions Professor would be amazed at this," Harry chuckled. "I wasn't the best student, but then again after six years something had to stick." It was even more amazing that luckily, magical plants mainly cured magical ailments so Harry could still work with a cauldron.

Hibari rolled his eyes, not surprised Harry wasn't the best student. Japanese was a pain to teach the British born, but at least the Prefect got the rather unbelievable potions out of it, and a secretary (though Harry couldn't be worse if he tried).

"Oh, by the way, Kusakabe told me a new customer asked about my potions," Harry said as he placed the rest of the potion back and closed the cabinet. "Your pompadour minions are incredibly useful." He trailed after Hibari back to the kitchen and sunk into a chair.

Hibari smirked, because yes they were, and took his own seat. "Who are they?" he asked about the newest group, despite knowing everything there was to know about the Mafia aligned scientist Verde. It wouldn't do for Harry to get taken away when he worked for the Disciplinary Committee, and more importantly because he was Hibari's.

"He said his name was Verde, and the mailing address was based in Italy. I'm not too sure I'm going to take it though, because I usually make them for private clinics and mainly around Namimori, so…" Harry trailed off.

"If the herbivore starts getting noisy, I'll bite him to death," Hibari stated.

"While that's sweet and all, you don't have pompadour minions in Italy so you can't know if Verde talks about me," Harry argued.

"I'll know."

"You're not sending pompadours to Italy, Hibari, their still middle schoolers," Harry laughed, despite the fact that he knew Hibari could and would do just that. "Okay, I'll go for it. I don't care if people might come for me, because I've got a particularly vicious Prefect as backup," Harry said teasingly and grinned at Hibari's bitch face.

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A/N: Geeze, you guys totally peer pressured me into this.

Okay, I swear that this time it's done. I won't write any more on this.

...but if I did, Harry would totally be Harry Hibari. Not because they're married but because Hibari likes putting his name on things (at least, that's the consensus. Harry thinks it's because Hibari can't pronounce Potter properly).