A/N: Here's a lil snippet I just felt like writing up from an AU I've been dying to rp yet haven't had the chance to. KHR rp'ers are difficult creatures to find, it seems x3 (hit me up if you are one btw, I play canon characters too)

When Harry came back from that mission he'd been shaky, quiet and withdrawn. He had handed in the necessary paperwork to keep Squalo or Mammon from biting his head off but had otherwise disappeared into his room and barely even came out to eat.

The only one allowed to generally enter was Lussuria, who had taken it upon himself to feed the boy when he refused to do so himself. Though it was for that very reason that Mammon now floated in front of the bland door that led into Harry's room.

The sun guardian had asked him to get 'Harry-dear' to talk, considering Lussuria had failed and Mammon was the only one with enough knowledge about their young cloud's background. That Lussuria had been willing to pay him for his time was really the only thing that had made him do it— not the money itself but that Lussuria was worried enough to agree to a price.

The Esper barely made the effort to knock and when no answer was forthcoming, he ignored the door completely and phased into the room, surprised to find that it looked exactly the same as when they had given it to him. There was a trunk at the foot of the bed now and parchment, a quill and pencils lying on the desk but it remained completely impersonalised otherwise, something Mammon would not have expected of a teenager.

"I take it that was your first kill." He began bluntly, approaching the huddled form on the bed that was refusing to do so much as acknowledge his senior's presence. When no answer was forthcoming he approached the boy to get him to react, but was stopped by the look un his eyes. Unseeing but still haunted... The Potter boy was reliving memories and looked like he would be trapped in them for the time being.

With a sigh the Mist made himself comfortable on a chair he materialised out of illusions and sat down, documenting the boy's reactions. There wasn't much to document though, other than the movement of his eyes and the changing emotions within them.

Harry started when he was finally freed from the memory, something like a nickname breezing past his lips before he could stop himself. Padfoot, or something similar, it must have been. Mammon didn't quite know. While he out of everyone in the Varia was the most knowledgeable about the magical world, that didn't mean he kept up with the news. Goblins were notoriously difficult to make money off of, though he did occasionally enjoy the challenge.

"Mammon... I'm sorry, I didn't see you enter..." The boy muttered, shaking himself out of the memory and turning towards the other in what looked like a practiced manner. It was too smooth and deliberate to be anything else, the way he casually crossed his legs while his fingers clutched the leg of his pants more tightly than was appropriate for the image he was trying to portray.

"Mu, it's fine. I'm being paid for this, anyway." He replied, earning a small yet somehow humourless chuckle from Harry. Of course Mammon hadn't come of his own volition. No doubt Lussuria had commissioned him to help, and while Harry appreciated the gesture in a sense, he wasn't sure he was willing to accept it.

"I don't want to talk." A silence had stretched out between them until he said that, each contemplating the other and the situation at large from different yet equally interesting viewpoints.

"Neither do I. If I wanted to be a counsellor I would be, however I am in charge of you and that was obviously your first kill. Get it out of your system so this charade can be over with." And I can be paid for my time. He may not have said it, but the sentiment was there, hanging between them as it always was.

"My first..." Harry's eyes briefly went back to that dull look as he remembered another bad experience, but this time quickly freed himself from it. "No, it wasn't my first. But I've never killed this intentionally before." It was odd to speak of Quirrel now, over five years later.

No one had seemed to care then, and Harry had quite deliberately forgotten. But that hadn't made the nightmares go away, the memory of flesh turning to ash under his fingertips when he was barely old enough to reach the man's face. He had killed him intentionally then, too. But not in the sense that he had been aware that his actions would kill someone, and even after no one had talked it through with him as Mammon was attempting to do now.

Mammon narrowed his eyes. If this was not Harry Potter's first kill, then who was? He hadn't kept up with much magical news but this would have made headlines across all the magical communities... The boy was barely sixteen now, how old would he have been then? Potter still looked haunted by his past, that kill included, which insinuated PTSD and a complete lack of counselling for the trauma the boy would have gone through.

"Tell me." He demanded blandly. Mammon cared little for sweet, soft words and meaningless chatter. Time is money and as a result he was curt, quick and blunt and cared not one bit that others found this offensive on many occasions. He had better things to be doing than wasting his time on the emotions of trash.

To Harry however, that blunt honest edge was comforting, in a way. It was so different from anything he was used to and helped him detach from the situation so he could tell his tale without reliving it too much. Not only that but the Mist would not expect any emotion from him either, unlike Lussuria or someone like Hermione would. They would want him to pour his heart out and they'd coddle him and treat him like glass, be worried over him constantly and he would rather not be subjected to that.

"I was eleven when it happened..." He started, focussing his gaze on the floor in front of Mammon's chair. "He was our defence against the dark arts professor and possessed by Voldemort. Dumbledore, our headmaster, hid Nicholas Flamel's philosopher stone in the school; apparently to keep it safe..." Harry told him of the suspicion, McGonagall ignoring them when they went to her for help, braving the traps with his friends and ending up with Quirrel in that room, fighting for his life after staring down Voldemort.

Mammon, for his part, listened and remained quiet, not once interrupting. Eleven... Merlin be damned, the brat had barely even learned about wizards and he'd been forced to kill, however accidental that had been. And shockingly, none of them had bothered to bring the boy to the attention of a mind healer, even just in case. British wizards were stupid and lacked common sense, this he had known already, but this was a whole new level... People should be fined for this sort of idiocy.

Curiosity got the better of him then, and he began asking more. If such a huge thing could have been covered up, what else had happened at that school? Harry was obviously haunted by more than just that and they had yet to cover his most recent kill as well. Mammon would be willing to simply listen and give his input more cheaply, just this once...