I do not own KHR, or Harry Potter.
WARNING: Angst, slash (graphic in places, no sex scenes), mature themes, canon-derailment – a little.
000
Chapter Four
000
Doing Harry's MRI and X-rays was, as Shamal predicted, an utter pain in the ass.
Reborn wasn't allowed in the room and the unholy stink he he kicked up, non-verbally of course, he was much too 'cool' to be rowdy about it, was unbelievable. He made three of the technicians piss on themselves out of sheer terror when Harry's sleeping form was slowly inserted into the full-body MRI scanner. Typically they were only large enough for singular body parts, but enough money had been poured into the hospital to afford a full-body one to be built for them. It had taken seven hours, and Harry had not woken up once in the meantime, Reborn pacing the room like a caged tiger was not helping the nurses and Shamal himself was too terrified to tell him to sack up and chill the fuck out. When the machine finally died down, it was only the fact that the room was sterile and he wasn't that stopped Reborn from barging back in and snatching his still very motionless and unharmed Sky from the MRI bed. The Mosquito Nurse set one of the other Sky Ward nurses, Nurse Abbadelli, one of the Rain Actives, to examining the results carefully while Shamal made arrangements for the X-rays now that the room had finally been made sterile.
Again, Reborn wasn't allowed in.
Shamal could hear him grinding his teeth as they began to position Harry carefully in order to get a full-body image. Sadly, there were no ways of doing full-body X-rays in this day and age. But thankfully the X-rays did not take as long as the MRI scanning, so Shamal didn't have to stand in a room reeking of Reborn induced urine with several terrified technicians.
Nurse Yale greeted them when they stepped out of the X-ray room, "Harry's room is clean. The sterilising station is set up in the living room. We also moved your bed and all your purchases in as well, Mister Reborn," she informed them neatly.
"Thank you, Nurse Yale," Shamal answered, as it was clear Reborn wasn't going to – he was already half way down the corridor to Harry's room. He shook his head in frustration at the look of amusement on the woman's face, "He's been like this the whole damn time," he sighed, "he made the Techies in the MRI room piss on themselves within the first thirty seconds. Seven hours sat in a room that reeked of piss because he can't stop his Flame from blistering."
Nurse Yale giggled at him, "You can hardly blame him though," she pointed out.
"Oh I can. And I will," the Mosquito Hitman declared bluntly making the nurse laugh again. "Here, Harry's X-rays, see if you can't find anything in there while I go and make sure that idiot is properly sterile before barging in," he declared, handing her the manilla folder and quickly hurrying off after Reborn.
Thankfully, for Shamal's blood pressure, if there was one thing Reborn was taking seriously, it was Harry's wellbeing. He had already stripped down, thrown his suit into a laundry bag, and was in the process of stepping into the chemical shower when the younger man caught up. At least he had nothing to fear regarding cutting corners when it came to Reborn, he noted as he too followed suit and stepped into the second shower. They were sprayed with water first, completely hosed, and then with a chemical mixture that was one part diluted bleach, two parts sterilising fluid, and three parts mild ethanol. By law, the mixture was technically illegal, just one incident of someone opening their eyes could render them blind, however, this was a mafia hospital, things like laws didn't really apply. It would cause mild amounts of skin irritation, but the shower was short enough that no permanent damage was done, what followed was a second set of chemicals designed to counter the irritation of the first – it also had the unexpected side effect of clearing out impurities in the skin and increasing Flame sensitivity and reception. Shamal tried to understand, he was training to be a Doctor, but Nurse De Vitis had gone very indepth into the process and he had gotten completely lost. The chemical used was one that she invented herself, as well as a great deal of the specific drugs used within the Hospital. There wasn't much to do on the Sky Ward when they didn't have a patient so they found other ways to keep themselves busy, such as inventing drugs, aiding on the other floors, Nurse Abbadelli was the one who created the Flame Receptive Blankets, breeding spiders with certain Flame affinities and using the silk they spun with hemp-fibres grown under Sun Flame.
Once clean, they were blasted once more but this time with a mix of hot and cold air, a little like a hair-drier before being allowed out. Reeking strongly of chemicals, they changed into fresh, sterile clothing, for Reborn this was another one of his suits – currently hanging up in a plastic dust-jacket after it had been cleaned earlier, and for Shamal it was another set of hospital scrubs in a separate sealed plastic bag.
The bedroom was surprisingly different when they entered in. Harry's bed had been pushed closer to the wall and a second bed, for Reborn, had been placed between him and the window, in the space between them, there were two wooden desks with bookshelves set on the back attached to the wall, on Reborn's side were the books and VHS tapes he had requested, on Harry's was the Gameboy box plus three packs of Double A Batteries, the slender wooden stick, and the orange scarf Reborn had met him in folded up beside him, that horrible ring sat upon it (someone had been clever in their room arrangements – knowing that Reborn would be twitchy with Harry next to the window, bullet-proof or not). Two sets of chest of draws were against the wall opposite the beds, a coffee maker, kettle, water cooler, and several tins and boxes of assorted teas and coffees were set on one, atop the other was a large black Television with a long silver antenna stretching to the ceiling, positioned carefully, and a VCR tape player.
Nurse Nasato, one of the Sun Actives on the ward, smiled as they came in. She was stood vigilantly beside Harry's sleeping form, between him and the window, and triple checking the equipment that hooked from his bed to the wall.
"Mister Reborn, Nurse Shamal," she greeted softly, "I've reattached all the needed equipment, the bed controls should be within easy reach of Young Master Cielo. This remote here doubles as a phone, allowing Young Master to order food when he awakens, and request the attention of any Nurse at the station outside for any reason," she explained, showing the new Sun Guardian the remote clipped into his Sky's hospital bed. She nodded to Reborn as she took a step back, allowing him to slide between her and the young man, "When he awakens, please do order up some broth. He hasn't eaten for a long while and I am concerned that if he goes for much longer, there may be some stomach pain."
Reborn nodded, "I understand. I will see to it, Nurse Nasato."
She nodded gratefully and inclined her head, retreating backwards out of the room.
The Hitman relaxed ever so faintly when the woman left, giving the room a quick look over before checking the en-suite bathroom, it wasn't much, a walk in shower with a seat, toilet, sink, mirror, there wasn't even a window in there. Shamal dropped himself down into the Mist chair and sprawled with a sigh of relief, "Thank fuck that's over with!" he complained, before shooting Reborn an evil glare, "You know, you could have been a lot more helpful if you calmed the fuck down earlier. None of the Staff here are going to try anything," he scolded grumpily.
Reborn grunted dismissively at him, shooting him a condescending look even as he made a beeline for the coffee machine as he finished checking the room.
"I'm serious Reborn. I don't ever want to spend seven hours in a room reeking of piss like that again!" the brunet exclaimed loudly.
Scowling, Reborn kicked him out of his chair, "Shut up. You'll wake him," he grit out in a low growl, glancing over to his Sky, Shamal freezing in his place on the floor, following suit as he glanced fearfully at the young boy. He needed his rest, and if Shamal woke him, then Reborn was probably going to snap his neck – or at least give him enough bruises that he would need some medical aid from Nurse Nasato himself.
Harry didn't stir.
Shamal sighed in relief and shot his friend a sour look as he slowly picked himself up and righted his chair. The smell of ground coffee filling the air as Reborn set about making espresso for himself, and a cup of the peppermint tea for for the young Nurse. He knew he was wearing the teenager's last nerves thin, and he needed something to settle down with, if Reborn recalled correctly, peppermint tea was usually what he drank after a hit in order to calm those nerves.
"I am aware that I have been... difficult," he managed to get out, tasting the words unhappily, as he poured the kettle's hotwater into a mug for Shamal. "I am trying. But..." he trailed off as he poured himself his own drink, trying to find the words to explain how utterly profoundly uncomfortable it was to not be there. To watch through glass as his Sky was sleep, vulnerable, and in another room, going into strange machines. He had only just found the boy, only just made a connection, and so very, very, nearly lost him completely. How could he explain just how frayed he was? That he was terrified, horrified, confused, and more than a little bit lost himself. He was thirty two, he had been a Hitman since he was fourteen, had only experienced three legitimate relationships that didn't involve a mission to kill them at the end of said quest. He was in over his head, out of his depth. Harry was a civilian. He was so, breath-takingly, heart-stoppingly, fragile. His Flame wasn't even Active.
He sighed as he sat down with the drinks, sliding Shamal's mug over as he took a seat.
The two sat quietly as they sipped their drinks, steadily feeling the stress and unease slowly seep away as their drinks warmed them.
"I get it, I do," Shamal finally said quietly, warming his hands on the plain white mug, "I didn't Harmonize to him, but I do get it." The bone deep muscle strain that came from holding yourself back, the way your stomach dropped when your thoughts inevitably made a turn for the worse – because they would, they always did when you worried. They were Hitman, Assassins, they had seen and done so much, stolen so many lives, they above all others knew just how badly something could go wrong. "But I can't do this, can't help him, if you're making my job harder. I need you to take a chill pill, and let us do our jobs," he continued quietly, staring at the Hitman over his drink.
"Can you do that? If not for me, then for him?" he asked, looking over to the small, tightly bundled up Sky on the other bed, fast asleep.
Reborn sighed, and nodded.
For him? Anything.
000
Harry slept for another nine hours before waking up, ravenously hungry, and in desperate need of the loo.
He was quite aware that the interior of the room had changed, but with his bladder throbbing with the need to be emptied he didn't pay it any mind as he slithered out of his bedding and tried the other door in the room – the one that didn't lead into the living room area he saw earlier. As he had hoped, a bathroom, complete with wet-room shower and a swimming-pool styled bath with steps leading down into the water. He took care of business and contemplated the shower for a long while. He was shivering with chill, and had no change of clothes or towel in the room, so a shower would be a bad idea right now. He would get one after he found some clean clothing and a towel (and some product, he was smelling a little ripe and his hair felt ratty, he wanted to wash properly).
Coming back into the room, he jumped near enough out of his skin when a blanket suddenly landed on his shoulders. He wheezed in surprise and tried to hop sideways, but the arm around his shoulders clamped down keeping him in place. A sleep rumpled, shirtless Reborn frowning at him with somewhat sunken in, and slightly bruise coloured eyes.
"You shouldn't be up and about," he scolded, ignoring the bug-eyed stare his shirtless state was garnering from the boy (holy shit Kreacher could do the laundry on those!) as he steered him back to his bed.
Harry scoffed, tearing his eyes away to glare at the Hitman, "I needed the loo," he retorted bluntly, "Would you rather I have wet the bed?" he demanded sarcastically.
There was a momentary silence before Reborn sighed heavily and gave up the argument. "Just get in bed, please?" he requested sounding so tired that Harry winced a little in guilt, doing as he asked without argument and submitting to the man's tucking in without argument or fuss. He watched as the Italian rubbed his face and glanced to the clock with a considering look.
He wanted to tell the man to go to bed, but... he was still wary of the apparent 'power' that a Sky possessed over his Guardians. He didn't want to force Reborn into anything, even if it was 'for his own good'. That way lead a very slippery slope, and one he was beginning to think Dumbledore hadn't been wise enough to avoid as a youngster (and with someone like Gellert Grindelwald whispering in his ear, he wasn't surprised his Headmaster made that mistake, he was human after all, no matter what the rest of the Wizarding World may have thought).
"If you're tired, maybe you should go back to bed?" he suggested quietly making the Hitman look over at him sharply, "If you want," he added quickly making the Hitman sigh.
"No, once I am awake, there is little chance of going back to sleep," he admitted as he sat down on the second bed in the room, rubbing his face again. "You've slept a full twenty four hours almost," he pointed out as he dragged a shirt off the yellow chair he had been using previously and shrugged into it, "We went through several of the tests while you were unconscious but some need to be done while you're awake," he explained as he buttoned himself up (thankfully hiding the very distracting view that was making Harry feel quite a bit inadequate and scrawny).
"Any results?" he asked curiously, drawing the blankets tightly around his shoulders.
Reborn nodded, his expression looking even more tired than before, "Yes. Your X-rays continue to baffle, but the blood tests and MRI scans came back with some... interesting results. There is no simple way of explaining this, but your immune system seems to have crashed. Meaning that even the smallest of colds could prove lethal," he explained slowly, watching as green eyes widened briefly before he nodded slowly. "Your rooms are on restricted access because of this. Anyone who wants in needs to go through extensive chemical sterilisation to avoid making you unwell. Everything in here has already been cleaned, so you're safe in here. But else-where is unknown. Each test lab has been sterilised before you entered, so thankfully we have been able to avoid infection thus far. We just need your cooperation from now on to make sure it stays that way."
Harry wrinkled his nose unhappily but nodded, "No leaving the room, opening the window, or letting anyone else inside. Got it."
Reborn quirked a small smirk, but it fell quickly enough, "The MRI scans were interesting. The scar tissue on your body is extensive and difficult for the machinery to completely image. Your brain seems to be healthy for the most part, if oddly developed in certain areas."
Harry felt a fissure of unease, "Developed how?" he asked warily.
"Mmm, extra pieces here and there. Less in other areas. A lot of the added areas correspond to your nervous system and the increased activity there. Despite the number of burnt out nerves you do have, which on its own is worrying, you have five times more nerves than the average human. Which would mean that every time someone lays a hand on you, you feel it much more keenly than any other human, but they don't seem to carry information back to the brain. A one way connection only," he explained tugging open a desk draw and withdrawing a manilla coloured folder and flipping it open in order to show Harry the image. It looked like a black and white cross-section of a human being, their brain at least. Almost like an X-ray that could see the fleshy bits. But... He swallowed. There were a lot of strands leaving said brain, bright vivid white ones. He could also see where the scars had caused the image to blur. The one around his forehead leaving a dull grey-white smear on the picture, while the one on his neck was dark-dark grey-black and blotchy.
Reborn calmly turned the folder back towards himself and then shuffled the images around, "But unique brain development aside, it was the X-rays that really had Shamal and the staff scratching their heads. Brittle bones are not uncommonly found in abuse victims, especially ones who display long-term malnutrition signs."
Harry spluttered, "A-abuse? I'm not abused!" he objected. Sure the Dursleys were a bit shitty but he was not some kind of abused kid like from the news!
The Hitman gave him a Look, before going back to the file and shifting a second series of papers around.
"The MRI picked up signs of stress on your optic nerve, or rather, in layman's terms as it was explained to me 'a few too many hard hits to the head as a small child caused pressure on his optic nerves, thus causing his short-sightedness'," he explained as he read a sheet of paper and then set it back, glancing up at Harry in the process, "Hits hard enough to cause that kind of damage would have to be from an adult using a considerable kind of aggressive force. We also saw signs of deep-tissue burns on your eye that match up with burns found on those splattered with hot grease. Tell me, were you ever hit in the head with a frying pan?" he asked lightly, his eyes anything but.
Harry shook his head. Aunt Petunia had swung at him with it before, but never managed to land a hit.
Or had she?
Harry swallowed, if they'd found signs of grease burns... They wouldn't just pull this kind of information out of their arseholes. What good would it do them? Where as... if Harry had memories of Petunia and Vernon being abusive in a more hands on kind of way... how would that have effected his personality, his temperment, when it came to Voldemort, muggles as a whole, Dumbledore who had left him with them?
He shuddered. A year ago he would have argued tooth and nail against the idea of Professor Dumbledore casting any kind of memory charm on him, but now, knowing what he did about the man's 'For the Greater Good' doctrine... he legitimately couldn't say that he would never memory charm him – if it kept him loyal to the cause and willing to die in the end when he had to, Dumbledore would have done everything in his power to make sure it happened. Because he had always placed the lives of others above Harry's own.
"Harry, I'm not going to demand an explanation," Reborn stated, setting the file aside, "clearly you're up to your neck in something that you aren't willing to talk about. I am willing to wait until you want to tell me. But Shamal and the nurses are in charge of making sure you live through this. It would be a good idea to tell them at the very least."
The young wizard shifted with a grimace, "I can't. I told you, there are Laws. I don't know if I'm... I've contacted a friend, I asked her to look into it," he explained as Reborn stiffened, sitting up straight with a frown of distress crossing his features.
"How? You – I haven't left your side for a moment and you've been asleep every time you've left this room."
Harry smiled, a little tiredly but also a little smug, "Trade secret," he answered.
The Hitman's eyes narrowed before he huffed quietly in amusement, "Fine. Keep your secrets for now. I'll find out soon enough."
Harry chuckled to himself as he sat back on the bed and finally look a look around the room, unable to stop the small smile that crossed his lips at the changes (and the fact he had successfully deflected that line of conversation), "Settling in, are we?" he asked, giving the Hitman a glance before he went back to eyeing the espresso machine and assorted boxes and tins of coffee beans and tea.
"Mmmm. We're going to be in here for a long time," he agreed, watching his Sky with a soft expression. "Since the most you had to your name was your scarf and that disgusting ring," and disgusting it was, touching it felt like submerging his hand in cold, putrefied flesh and faeces, "I got some things to pass the time. For when you're awake longer than twenty minutes," he added with an amused glint (it would be a while before Harry regained enough strength to stay awake for long periods of time).
The young Sky laughed a little helplessly, "I think I'll go completely stir crazy before then," he admitted. He had been on the run for over a year. And he had never done very well when locked in a small space – even if this room was bigger than his cupboard, and his bedroom at number four, and the Gryffindor Boys' Dormitory. Actually, put all three together and you could still have space left over in here.
A slow, sly smirk curled onto the Italian's lips, "You underestimate my ability to... entertain," he purred.
That – Harry turned red. Talk about beating someone over the head with innuendo. He snatched one of the pillows behind him and threw it at the dark eyed man who started laughing. He caught it, of course, but it was the principle of the matter.
"You're incorrigible," Harry complained, recalling it as something Hermione once said to the twins when they got witty with her.
Reborn chuckled as he got to his feet and came over, leaning down to put the pillow back where it came from, "You love it really," he teased in a low tone breathing into the teenager's ear, pleased at the momentary shiver it prompted from his Sky – before a plastic cup from the water-cooler bounced off the back of his head.
"He's on strict bed rest, Reborn! No getting him worked up!" Shamal barked as he came in. "Christ when Daniela said you were like an alley cat, she wasn't joking!" he complained.
Reborn sniffed, "She only says that because I didn't let her snap me up," he dismissed.
"No I think she said that because you wouldn't give up on getting into someone, balls deep," he retorted dryly.
Reborn paused, waiting for the inevitable splutter of embarrassed teenage disbelief, but it never came. A quick glance showed his Sky had fallen asleep, and thus hadn't heard Shamal's comment about his sexual promiscuity. He sighed a little in fond exasperation before shifting, wrapping an arm around the dark haired boy's shoulders and back, lifting him and shifting him down further into the bedding and tucked him in properly. Taking a brief opportunity to kiss the side of his neck as he did so before stepping him down and pulling the blankets up.
Shamal shook his head, it still creeped him out to see the Hitman, THE Hitman, act like this. But he was getting used to it, slowly and steadily. But still, that kid... His test results were a headbake in of themselves, but what those results insinuated nearly had Reborn leaving the hospital to create a few very messy deaths, without even knowing who he was targeting. He pitied those poor dumb bastards once the man finally managed to wrangle what information he wanted out of the kid – he was going to be down some family members, in pretty messy fashions.
He waited until the kid was settled before tossing his files onto the side-table, the one with the coffee maker on it. "Well, we finished the autopsy on the woman," he declared, grabbing the Hitman's attention.
"And?"
"I found out why the Vindice called her a 'False' Sky. Seems like the Estrano are experimenting on Flames, more particularly in changing them. She was one of the few successful experiments, but from what we've discovered, she was hugely unstable. I doubt they had any actual Skies on hand for those experiments," he admitted with a grimace as he nodded to the files he threw down, already turning on the coffee maker and adding several shots of whiskey to his mug. "She probably had a very tiny Sky potential anyway, but we found out that she was originally a Mist. They crammed every other type of flame onto her and then used her body like a blender in order to mix them. If she hadn't had that tiny Sky Potential then undoubtedly she would have died. Either way, she was already on the verge of death. Six months, max. Likely as not, the Estrano planned on taking whatever baby came to be before her death and incubating it separately until it could be used for raw materials and experimentation."
He ignored the blistering spikes of Sun Flame behind him. Even if he did break out in a cold sweat and start to shake as he tried to screw the cap on his hipflask shut.
The soft, pained sound from the young Sky quickly put a stop to Reborn's turbulent Flame, a glance over his shoulder showed the Hitman had gone completely motionless, his eyes half bugging out of his skull before he whipped around and practically teleported to his Sky's side (seriously, Shamal didn't think he even saw the man move, it was that fast), he fussed with the blankets, gently brushed hair from the kid's face, seemingly at a complete loss about what to do before just crawling into the small hospital bed beside him. The teenager turning and burrowing into his side, without waking up. God, someone get him to a dentist, he just spontaneously developed cavities.
"So, a fake Sky. And an intention to... get another one, or two," the Hitman managed to get out, the arm he had wrapped around the teenager pressing him more firmly against his side.
Shamal nodded as the coffee machine finished its grind, he poured himself a mug, "Yup. The Vindice have taken care of the Estrano main famiglia for violating the Law of the Hospital. They won't be trying anything for a good long time."
Reborn nodded, feeling a small curl of satisfaction, accompanied by a larger twist of thwarted anger – because he hadn't had the pleasure of putting a bullet into them himself for threatening to harm his Sky. Instead, he took to running his fingers through said Sky's hair. It was a little greasy from so long without bathing, but that could be resolved the next time he woke, once they got some food into him. He hadn't stayed awake long enough to get any into him this time, they were going to have to put him on a drip for the evening, at least until he next woke up.
Shamal sighed as he stretched, spine popping and cracking with the motion, hard to believe sometimes there was only eight months between the two of them. "Get some sleep Reborn. I'll buzz you if something else happens. Nurse Yale'll be in after she cleans up to put him on the drip – make sure he doesn't take it out this time?" he added plaintively as he took his coffee and left the room.
"I'll do my best," Reborn drawled as he swung his legs off the bed and then tucked them under Harry's blanket. He found he slept better when he had a damn good idea of just where his Sky was, and beside him was best.
It didn't take long before he joined the young man in sleep. Waking only briefly to watch through half-lidded eyes as Nurse Yale set a cannula on Harry's left arm and set up the drips required. She smiled and left, letting him fall back into the arms of Morpheus with the click of the door lock behind her.
000
Harry woke a lot sooner than anyone expected, Reborn was still out cold, face buried in his hair, arms around his waist and shoulders. Harry spent several minutes eyeing his sideburns, debating with himself as to test whether or not they were waxed into position. When boredom finally got to the point where he tested it, he reached up and pulled one of them ever so lightly, watching it uncoil, and then let it go. It sprung back into position.
His eyebrow twitched up in surprise. That couldn't be natural.
He pulled again, rubbing the hairs lightly between his fingertips, but he didn't feel any stickiness, or stiffness, or even any grittiness that would come from styling gel, or wax, of even glue. He let the hair go and watched as it sprang back into position.
That was just weird.
He pulled it again, watching as it sprang back to position in fascination.
He pulled it again, and a hand caught him. He froze, eyes widening as he looked up at the very amused Hitman looking down at him.
"S-sorry."
He chuckled and pressed a kiss to Harry's fingertips, "No need to be shy," he purred as the teenager went red, he shifted his arm and pulled the younger firmly against his chest in one of the tightest, warmest hugs Harry had ever received, squeezing him even tighter when he felt the teenager squirm and then practically melt against him with a shiver. He laughed lowly as the boy pressed against him, greedily hunting for more warmth, "My hugs are great, aren't they?" he bragged, nuzzling the side of the boy's head.
Harry hummed. It was a bit of a toss up between Reborn and Mrs Weasley to be honest. Both had different kinds of hugs. Ginny... there wasn't a lot of hugging involved with her. Kissing, yes. Hugging... not so much.
He squawked, jerking suddenly when he felt someone's fingers press into his side and twitch.
"Ho?"
Fuck.
"Don't you dare," Harry hissed, narrowing his eyes. He did not want to be tickled right now!
The devilish smirk changed to one of complete innocence, "I wouldn't dream of it," he lied, "But as much as I would love to keep you here, you haven't eaten in over three days. I'm under Doctor's orders to make sure you get something edible down your throat when next you wake up," he explained firmly pushing his thoughts away from the gutter and the idea of other things going down his Sky's throat.
As if on cue, Harry's stomach made a very audible complaint regarding its currently empty state.
Harry sniffed a little, a wry expression crossing his face, "I think you may be right. May."
Reborn chuckled and gave him another tight squeeze before reluctantly (because he was all snuggly and warm and awake) slithering out of the sheets in order to fetch the menu that Nurse Yale had shoved at him earlier. He returned very quickly and climbed back in without shame even as he handed the menu over to the younger boy whom found himself being shifted once more, this time off the pillows and – Harry blinked as he craned his head back, startled. How had -
That was smooth! Cheeky asshole!
Reborn smiled charmingly at him, like butter wouldn't even melt, as he pulled the smaller male back against his chest. Much better, he decided, Sky positioned against his chest, flanked by his legs under the covers, and his armed wrapped around his waist holding him in place.
Harry wrinkled his nose at him, he was pretty certain he had sat in this position before himself, but in Reborn's place, with Ginny between his legs. Her hair had smelt like honeysuckle he recalled.
He yelped and slapped the Hitman's leg as yet again a set of fingers not his own twitched against his sides, "Would you stop that?" he complained in exasperation as he felt the man rest his chin against the top of his head.
"Well stop daydreaming then," he retorted a little petulantly, his voice coloured with the smirk no doubt decorating his lips. Harry huffed grumpily but decided not to reply to that, he had been daydreaming, a little. "Since you haven't eaten anything in a while, the Nurses recommended the Soup section," the Hitman declared as one of the arms around his waist shifted and withdrew from the blankets to grab the menu, flipping it open to the relevant page. Vegetable Soup, Chicken, Tomato, Mushroom, Beef, Leek and Potato, Minestrone, French Onion, Lentil, Oxtail, Scotch Broth, Carrot and Coriander, and Chef's Choice. All of which came with two slices of fresh bread and butter.
Harry floundered, "C-chicken?" he decided.
Reborn nodded cheerfully pressing the Call Nurse button, it didn't take long before Nurse Yale was knocking on the door.
"Come in," Reborn called, tightening his grip on Harry's waist as he rested his chin on the boy's head. The woman opened the door, but didn't step in, smiling brightly at them.
"Morning, it's nice to see you awake, honey. I'm Nurse Yale, now, what can I get you boys?" she introduced herself before rummaging a notebook out of her pocket. Inanely, Harry wondered if she had ever worked in a restaurant, because that was the kind of rehearsed question that would have from a waitress.
"One chicken soup for Harry, and a ham sandwich for me, easy on the lettuce," Reborn requested lazily as the woman quickly noted everything down.
"You alright for drinks?" she asked as she craned her head to get a look at the tea and coffee station that had appeared on the table nearest to the window while Harry had been sleeping.
"We'll manage," Reborn assured her with a smirk.
She smiled brightly, "Shouldn't be longer than an hour. Give me a buzz if you need anything else, alright?" she told them before closing the door behind her.
They sat in what was almost an awkward silence before Reborn gave the teenager a squeeze and released him, "Here. When I sent the Nurses out, one of them got this. She thought you would like it more than books," he explained as he took the box from Harry's desk and set it in his lap.
Harry stared down at it and squinted slightly in order to read the text (Reborn frowned slightly, they were going to have to get him some glasses, or see about repairing the damage to his optic nerve). "A... Gameboy?" he read, and some weird kind of yellow mouse on it too. 'Pokemon Yellow included'?
Reborn frowned a little at the confusion, "Is it not to your liking?" he asked.
"I – I'm not sure what it even is, to be honest," he admitted eyeing the box. "I was never allowed games, and at school there was a strict no electronics rule," he explained with a shrug of a shoulder, "Even the Headmaster obeyed it. He didn't even have a phone in his office."
Wow. A school completely devoid of technology? That would explain why Reborn had zero luck in digging up his Sky's school records beyond the British Year Six at Little Whinging Juniors. Still. What kind of teenager had never...
"Well, now you have one. Go on, open it," he urged the teenager who seemed quite at a loss to do with the gift.
Inside was a small bright yellow hand-held device with a green-grey coloured screen surrounded with a black border and the words 'GameBoy Colour' above it. There was an A button, a B button, Start, Select, and a cross with arrows on it. On the side were two plug in areas and a little wheel with volume written under it, and on the bottom of the device was a small circular hole with a strange horse-shoe shaped symbol next to it. Next to it was a box with a yellow mouse on it and the words 'Nintendo Pokemon Yellow' emblazoned across the front.
Between the two of them, Harry being technology illiterate, and Reborn having never had any manner of gaming device, they managed to handle the small device, getting it out of the box along with the game box, the needed wires, even the little light and magnifying glass clip on. They managed to open the back of the Gameboy and pull out the cardboard tags that were inside and get some of the Double A batteries inside.
Pushing the little power switch from Off to On didn't do anything though. The device lit up and the little red power light lit up. But on the screen all that appeared was a black italic text reading 'GAME BOY'. A black bar, and a little copywrite symbol with an R inside, instead of a C.
The two males exchanged a look as Harry held the little device. But nothing else happened.
"Did we put the batteries in wrong?" Harry asked curiously as he turned the game over.
Reborn eyed it, "No, we put them in right. What about this?" he asked, running the tip of his finger across the odd hole in the back of the device. Harry tilted it so he could get a look down it and squinted.
"There's some metal stuff in the bottom of it. Do you think it has to be plugged into something?" he asked pushing a bit of packaging aside and dragging the game box over. Inside was the light and magnifying attachment which was quickly added to the device and turned on but... No change.
"Turn it off and on again?" Reborn suggested, that worked sometimes with disagreeable desktop computers.
Harry did as he suggested and waited a little before turning it back on. But the same screen popped up.
"They wouldn't sell a game that didn't work. We must be missing something," Harry muttered as he pressed the start button, the A button, select, the odd little cross. He then turned back to the packaging and eyed the box with the mouse on it. Maybe... He set the gameboy down and grabbed it, cracking it open and up-ending the contents out onto his lap.
A yellow cartridge the exact dimensions of the slot in the back of the gameboy glared up at him mockingly. Harry sniffed a little, feeling silly, as he grabbed it and carefully slotted it into the hole. Nothing changed when he did, but when he turned it off, and then on again...
A quiet beep filled the room and the screen changed. Flashing a brief list of names before changing again, a star crossing the screen and the words 'GAME FREAK' flashing and dropping multicoloured stars as it chimed.
Reborn huffed, "Well. Why bother having a second box when its supposed to be included?" he complained, clearly a little irritated that he hadn't figured it out himself.
Harry chuckled but didn't pull his attention away from the odd little cartoon that played, featuring a small yellow mouse that went surfing of all things. And then a rave?
Finally, an image of the opening title and the same mouse, he was beginning to think it was the game mascot or something, and a command to press the Start Button. Which he did and came to a small menu reading New Game and Options.
Selecting New Game, Harry went through the opening sequence, Reborn reading over his shoulder and humming in amusement every now and again. When it asked for his name, well, it was a no brainer that he put his own name in. When asked about his rival's name, Harry could only blink down at the machine. Voldemort was too long he noted and he couldn't really call the man a rival so much as a sworn enemy. In fact, the only person he could conceive as a 'rival' would be Malfoy, simply due to their Quidditch Positions.
Shrugging a little bewilderedly, he input Malfoy's name as the Professor's Grandson, ignoring the suspicious hum that came from the Hitman behind him, and the way his arms tightened a little.
It took a little bit, but after trying all the buttons, Harry got a basic idea of how to control the little game character, or rather, himself (weird). He explored his room first, turning on the PC and taking the potion (who knew what kind of potion it was but it could be useful?), and accidentally made his way down the stairs where he met his 'mother', a mother who seemed to think he was leaving. Well, according to the game he was, but she seemed pretty unconcerned about it since the TV told her it would be okay. Harry was reminded rather strongly of Vernon and Petunia and quickly left the house.
He explored the town, hesitating before going into other people's houses. But there seemed to be no repercussions to doing so. Eventually he went to an odd area in the north where there seemed to be a path filled with spiky things. After he got two squares into it, the Professor stopped him and an odd music suddenly started playing.
'A WILD PIKACHU APPEARED'
It was the yellow mouse. A yellow mouse that was then sucked into a small red and white ball.
Harry stared at the game in shock. The hell was that? Some kind of shrinking charm on an animal to suck them into the tiny ball? He knew it was a game so it didn't really matter but... damn, muggle came up with some nasty stuff.
Then the character Malfoy came into the story when they returned to Professor Oak's house. Harry was told to take the ball on the table only to be pushed out of the way and have the Malfoy character take it instead like a spoilt brat. Harry was beginning to think he had chosen the name for this character a little too well, he even said as much to Reborn as he got the Pikachu that was caught earlier from Professor Oak instead.
'Would you like to give a nickname to PIKACHU?'
Harry pondered this. Well, he had already gone with calling his character Harry, and his rival Malfoy. Why not?
He said yes, and keyed in the new name.
'HEDWIG'
"Hedwig?" Reborn echoed.
Harry nodded, "My owl. She was the first birthday present I'd ever been given. Hagrid, a friend of my parents, tracked me down when I was eleven to give me my invitation to school. He took me shopping, got me all my school supplies, and Hedwig. She was a trained courier bird, a snowy owl, and my bestfriend for the last seven years. She died though, at the beginning of the year," he explained, swallowing against the lump that formed in his throat as he thought back on her still warm feathered form as he lifted her out of the cage she had died in, her yellow eyes wide open, her feathers soft under his fingers.
Reborn shifted his grip and Harry found himself once again being squished into a very tight, warm hug. Harry smiled a little bitterly, leaving back against him. "It's okay," it wasn't, "it was a while ago now."
Turning his attention back to the game, Harry was a little started when Malfoy suggested they check their Pokemon out – only for the music to change and the words 'MALFOY wants to battle' to appear. Oh. Well, wasn't this familiar? That name was proving to be more and more accurate with every word the game character said.
The fight was pretty simple, Harry found out that the Potion recovered 'HP', something that went down whenever Malfoy's 'Eevee' 'tackled' Hedwig. He lost the fight, annoyingly, and felt a bit uncomfortable when Hedwig 'fainted' when her HP bar vanished. Guilt twisted his stomach a little.
"Knock, knock! Delivery! Could someone get the door, please?" Nurse Yale called, startling the two out of the little hand-held game.
Reborn slithered out from behind him, opening the door so the woman could come in wheeling a small silver service cart. She smiled winningly at them as Harry flicked the power on his gameboy off and set it to one side to preserve the battery life. "Nice to see you still up and about!" she declared brightly as she took an odd kind of lap-table for the bed and set it in front of him. "We were starting to get a little worried that you would waste away before we got the pleasure of your company," she lamented as she set the bowl of gently steaming cream of chicken soup in front of him, a pair of doorstop thick slices of heavenly smelling bread, a small pot of butter glistening pale yellow in the light. Silver spoon and knife set beside him on a white napkin with gold embroidery.
Glancing to Reborn found him at the desk beside him with a plate bearing a sandwich made of similarly thick cut fluffy white bread, thickly slathered with butter, a trio of sliced ham rolls, a hint of lettuce, the scarlet of sliced tomatoes and the edge of a cucumber between the two chunks of bread. On his plate was a small portion of salad, dribbled with french dressing, and pair of cherry tomatoes.
"Just leave the dishes on the table, I'll come and get them when you next buzz me. Enjoy your food boys. Oh, and Young Master Cielo? Everything you need is already in the room, toiletries are in the bathroom cupboard, beneath the sink, there are spare changes of clothing, including the suit you first came in wearing, within the chest of draws and the wardrobe here, and you can find extra blankets and towels in the airing cupboard here. Same for you as well Mister Reborn, but stored in those chest of draws closest to the window," Nurse Yale explained, gesturing to the necessary furniture pieces with a smile.
"Thank you," Harry said.
She smiled, "No problem. I'll see you later," she said as she left, closing the door behind her with a quiet click.
Now that he had the smell of the soup under his nose, Harry found that he was absolutely ravenous. He went slow, making sure to take his time so he didn't burn his tongue, or end up vomiting – like he had in his Second Year, when the Weasleys' rescued him, Harry had been forced to vomit all of Mrs Weasley's wonderful cooking behind a bush when they were de-gnoming the garden, his stomach unable to handle so much rich food after so long without. He sipped the soup to about half-way, in order to get his stomach used to substances being in there, before tearing the bread up and soaking it into the soup as much as possible before eating the sodden bread. He was quite aware that Reborn had finished his sandwich and began to make himself a coffee but Harry continued with his steady demolition of his bowl, making sure to take it slow and steady so as not to upset his stomach (he had no idea that his behaviour more than confirmed what kind of abuse he suffered from in Reborn's eyes, and forced him to make the coffee in the hopes the familiar soothing smell would calm his seething rage, at least a little).
He didn't manage to get all the way through the bread, but he knew that any more and he would vomit.
Pushing the tray down the edge of the bed, he pushed aside the blankets, shivering, before stopping as Reborn's hand pressed against his chest, the man frowning in concern, "Whoa, whoa, where are you going? You're supposed to stay in bed," he chided.
Harry pulled a face, "I was going to put my tray on the table and go take a shower," he explained as he pushed Reborn's hand away.
The Hitman stepped back, letting his Sky get to his feet and shuffle past him. His brain kind of stalling for a second, because shower. Meaning wet and naked. Also meaning that in his exhausted state he could quite easily slip and hurt himself, potentially even crack his head open. But at the same time... naked and wet.
He absent mindedly took the heavy tray and laptable off the teenager before he even took a step away from the bed and put it on the table himself.
"Do you want me to get one of the Nurses to help?" he finally asked, shoving aside his personal desires, because he knew that if he was the one in there, then he wouldn't control himself. His grasp of his instincts was tenuous already, they were still adjusting to each other and Reborn could tell already that the only reason Harry was letting him so close, be so physical and affectionate with him was because he still felt vulnerable without his Flame. The Italian was just grateful he hadn't had another panic attack.
Harry grimaced, "I'll be fine," he assured the Hitman as he dragged out a fresh set of clothing and a towel from the airing cupboard.
"This is the first time you've been awake for longer than half an hour," Reborn pointed out, scowling. "I'd rather you not pass out and smash your head open after all the effort we went to keeping you alive so far," he declared.
Harry sighed, "Then I won't use the shower. I'll use the bath, alright? No slipping or falling in there. I'll even leave the door open." He lived in a dormitory with communal bathing, it really didn't matter to him. He just wanted to get clean.
Ignoring Reborn's suddenly motionless form, Harry stepped into the bathroom and left the door slightly ajar, the hot-tub like bath was empty so he turned that on first before rummaging under the sink for the products that Nurse Yale mentioned earlier. Head and Shoulders shampoo and conditioner, E45 sensitive skin body wash, a scrubbing brush, a sponge, a razor, toothbrush and paste, dental floss and mouthwash, as well as three different kinds of cotton fresh scented deodorant, spray, cream, and roller. There was also a second set of small bottles filled with a pearly coloured gel with handwritten labels on them. Bubble bath, medicinal ones too he realised as he read the labels. One was for depleted flame, one was for unstable flame, one was for illness, another for injury, and a few for certain symptoms like feeling too hot in ones skin, or too cold, aching muscles and joints, burns, rashes, bad immune systems. They were okay to be mixed the label said, so he felt no problem with pouring in the bad immune system, depleted flame, and the feeling too cold bottles into the bath water as it filled.
He brushed his teeth as the bath filled, half aware of Reborn leaving his room and Shamal's voice informing him that Reborn had stepped out for a moment and to call if he needed anything as he would be making use of the coffee machine. Harry spit the minty foam out and called out an acknowledgement before finishing up with the dental hygiene routine. By then, the bath was full and foaming with bubbles that changed colour.
Harry stripped out of his dirty night clothes and set them to one side before taking the hair and bodywash stuff and setting it beside the tub and going down the steps. He couldn't stop the small sigh of relief as he sank into the heat, feeling chill tense muscles he hadn't even known were wound tight relax as he practically went boneless against the side of the bathtub.
He was never leaving this tub again. Ever.
Reborn would just have to get over his prudishness with nudity if he ever wanted to talk to Harry. He wasn't getting out. Ever.
Hermione was going to have to visit him in here. He didn't care. She'd seen it before.
An hour and twenty minutes later Shamal was leaning against the doorframe, thoroughly amused and trying to talk the young Sky into getting out of the bath. All he received were semi-stoned hums and protests about how he was going to live here now and no one was going to stop him.
"You'll wrinkle up if you stay in there," he warned the teenager.
"Like a raisin," he agreed lazily.
Shamal snorted in amusement, "I will physically pull you out of that bath if I have to. That or turn the cold tap on," he threatened, making Harry crack open a green eye to glower at him, the corners of his mouth pulling down.
"But I'm not done," he complained.
The Mosquito Hitman arched an eyebrow before he glanced to the shampoo and conditioner bottles in disbelief, "You didn't even wash your – you've just been sat here marinading in hot water, haven't you?" he asked, laughing helplessly when the Sky nodded without shame. "Finish up, or I really will turn the cold tap on."
In a very put upon fashion, Harry did as he was told. He knew a promise when he heard one.
As soon as he was out of the water, dressed and back in bed, he immediately found himself fast asleep, still warm and boneless from the bath, wrapped in a multitude of blankets and hugging one of his pillows like a koala.
000
Chapter FINISHED. Thank god. /consumed by Walking Dead/HP plotbunnies now.