Summary: The Arcobaleno Curse had not gone quietly. Each victim of that particular curse has their own demons to face, whether they be recent or decades into the past. And Skull will help them do so, whether or not they want him to. But what happens when Skull's own demons from the past come knocking? A Skull-is-Harry fic. Inspired by Tempesta D. Uzu's Soldier Series! Cover picture not mine.
Warnings: This is a Arcobaleno x Skull fic, people, which means shounen-ai. It focuses more on the family bit of things, though. Don't like, don't read!
Pairings: Mostly Arcobaleno x Skull, but will also have minor ones like Tsuna x Kyoko, Ryohei x Hana, and stuff like that.
Disclaimer: I definitely don't own Katekyo Hitman Reborn! or Harry Potter, not unless I want lawyers chasing after me! The honour goes to Amano Akira-san and Ms JK Rowling
respectively.
Announcements: Oh. My. Lord. So many reviews, favourites, follows, and views! Thank you, all! Excuse me. *Faints*
…Okay, now for the reviews!
azure37410: Haha, I'm expecting them, too!
L's Cappuccino: Indeed! XD
Anonymouschica: I love your review! Please, please review more, and tell me if I mess up! ;)
So I proudly present…
Chapter 7
Disappearance
Fon's eyes sharpened, already on his feet like the rest of the Arcobaleno.
"What do you mean?" He whispered, though with his hitman's intuition (because despite his appearance, he was a hitman, you know), he already knew the answer. Mammon's breathing was erratic, a sign of panic that the illusionist usually never showed.
"Skull…" The hooded male muttered, visibly calming himself. No one missed the fact that he had called the stuntman by his name. "His room. Everything's gone, except for his bed and desk." Colonello's mouth dropped open, Lal froze, Fon stared wide-eyed, Verde's face was closed off, and Reborn snarled silently, tilting his fedora to hide his face. We were so close! Colonello then spoke up.
"So, what do we do, kora? He broke our promise to Luce, kora." Surprisingly, it was Lal that replied.
"We go to the Lackey's room, and search for clues to his whereabouts." At Verde's condescending look, she defended herself. "Hey, he might have left something!" Before a fight could erupt, Fon cut in.
"Shall we go, then? Lal is right, and besides, there is also a possibility that Skull didn't leave willingly." Just the thought of that caused the possessive beast inside of him (because while he looked the calmest of the Arcobaleno, he was a Storm for a reason, and he wouldn't hesitate to put anyone who hurt anyone important to him down, no matter what) to growl and claw at his mental defenses, urging him to killkillkillkill. As if sensing his struggle, the rest of the Arcobaleno hurried up the stairs.
"Right." Reborn said, silencing everyone else. "You all know what to do. Check this room for anything related to the Lackey's disappearance. He may be the 'Lackey' here, but I know for a fact that Checkerface doesn't go through things half-assed. The Lackey is an Arcobaleno for a reason." At the last sentence, Fon frowned, feeling like he did in the hallway, as if he was missing something big.
"Listen, I may be the weakest member of the Arcobaleno, but I like to think that I'm actually a member for a reason. Tell me, what's wrong?"
Fon shook his head. What was that? He was a bit too young to be hallucinating, he thought. Moving to step out of the room, he stopped when Colonello gave a triumphant yell.
"I found something!" Mammon appeared beside the sniper in an instant, shocking the blond.
"Wha—!"
"What did you find." Verde strode up to them, yanking the crumpled piece of paper out of Colonello's hands. Lal folded her arms impatiently.
"Well, what does it say? Read it out loud!" The scientist scowled.
"I will, woman!"
*Click*
"Hurry up."
Mumbling something along the lines of 'stupid hitmen', Verde cleared his throat to read.
Everyone,
Something's come up. I have to go. If you see a group of people in outdated robes and wizard hats coming towards you, deny all connections with me, run, go to a safe place, and call this number.
+444 73 1264 XXXX
The person you want to reach is named Hermione Jean Granger. Tell her that you are friends with Harry James Potter, and know about the existence of the Order of the Phoenix to ease her suspicions. If she asks for anymore proof, tell her that you know Voldemort's real name, which is Tom Marvolo Riddle. Remember that name. After that, she will tell you to go to an unknown address. If it starts with anything other than a 'H', refuse to go there. Show absolutely no hostility, and keep no secrets, especially your identities. But above all, please, please, stay safe, however insufferable you guys are.
Until then,
Skull
…
"What. The. Fuck." Fon's eyes were shadowed, hands balling into fists. His fellow Arcobaleno started inching away from him slightly, more than a little terrified at the display of uncharacteristic anger.
"Whoa, Fon." Lal said. "I think you need to calm down." She barely hid her flinch when the Storm Arcobaleno turned his furious gaze on her. Mammon, though, had froze at the name 'Harry James Potter.'
"It can't be…"
Still looking wearily at Fon, Reborn decided to interrogate the illusionist.
"You know what is happening (because nothing in the Lackey's note seemed to make sense)?" Mammon nodded curtly, looking slightly shaken.
"If Skull is who I think he is, then…" Not completing his sentence, his head shot up.
"Wait." A much calmer Fon stared quizzically at the shorter male.
"?" Mammon facepalmed.
"I can't believe I didn't think of this before. Listen, have any of you recently felt that you're missing something? Like, gaps in your memory?" He sighed when the rest of the people in the room nodded. "He's erased your memories, then."
"Hold up." Verde demanded. "What do you mean, 'erased your memories'?" Mammon sighed, then slowly explained, as if speaking to a particularly dense child. Verde bristled. "It means, scientist, that Skull has erased all your memories on a certain subject. As you know, I am rather… adept with matters involving the mind (Lal mentally scoffed. That was a gross understatement), including memories, so I can most likely restore your lost ones. You have to pay me for this, though." When Colonello opened his mouth, the illusionist said sharply: "Listen, do you want your memories back or not? All will most likely be explained later, and if I'm right, we do not have much time!" Just then, there were a series of sharp raps on the door.
"Open up!" Mammon cursed.
"Shit!" He turned to face the others. "Follow me, but hide yourselves." He vanished, presumably down to the front door. The rest of the Arcobaleno hurried silently after him.
A group of people in robes and wizard hats were arguing with Mammon, demanding to know the address of a 'Harry Potter'. Reborn remembered the name: It was in the Lackey's note. Did Mammon know something about the stuntman that he, the World's Greatest Hitman, did not? The possibility left a sour taste in his mouth. The man in the middle was shouting out demands and insults in English, while Mammon was coolly insulting them back in the same language.
"Where is Harry Potter, squib?!" The man said, portly face becoming redder and redder. Mammon snorted, further enraging him.
"How should I know? He's the Boy-Who-Lived, Sir Auror. Surely he wouldn't bother come visit me, a squib?" Although the last word was spoken mockingly, the illusionist glared at them underneath his hood, making the group of robe-clad people shiver. Apparently, being a 'squib' was an extremely touchy subject for their resident miser.
"Bullshit!" Another man stepped up beside the leader, a skinny one with greasy hair and a waxed mustache. "We traced his magical signature, and it led to here!" Mammon grinned, then, a bloodthirsty grin of nothing but teeth. Verde vaguely wondered if he learned that from the Varia blond upstart, Belphagor.
"Oh." The shorter male flexed his hands, and suddenly, both the men who spoke were screaming in agony, collapsing on the ground. The rest of the group ran away, shouting about something like 'The Ministry', or something like that. "Then I suppose I'll have to dispose of you, yes?" The men promptly wet themselves, eliciting thinly veiled glares of disgust from the Arcobaleno, even Fon, as he valued dignity above almost everything else. Desperate, the unidentified men started promising Mammon everything they had (which was, in fact, exactly what Mammon wanted them to say) in order to free them. Mammon smiled this time; but it was sickeningly sweet. The sweating men pressed themselves to the wall.
"Alright, then, since I'm a bit behind Magical Britain's news…" The disturbingly sweet smile was immediately replaced with an apathetic expression that did nothing to hide the cruel glint in his eyes: The normal Mammon had come back out. The rest of the Arcobaleno just stared in mute shock as the illusionist began his interrogation.
"Tell me what happened to Harry James Potter."
Skull dashed through the streets of London, purple hair whipping around him as he looked behind for his chasers. He finally stopped in front of a decrepit old building, panting hard. Knocking at the grey door, he stood stock-still as the person on the other side inspected him. Then, a clear, feminine voice sounded out.
"Password?" Skull grinned.
"The Quibbler." At once, the door flew open, allowing him access. Once he shut the door firmly behind him, a woman darted up and hugged him, surprising the stuntman. "Whoa, whoa, Hermione!" The woman, now identified as Hermione, raised her head, brown eyes watering.
"Thank god, Harry! I thought you were dead!" Skull smiled fondly, guiding his old friend to the living room, where he set her upon an armchair. "Don't worry, 'Mione. I'm still alive, see?" Visibly collecting herself, the bushy-haired woman shot the stuntman a dark glare ('Molly Glare #43', as Skull so fondly dubbed it as).
"Explain yourself." At Harry's questioning look, she sighed, wondering how naïve her friend could possibly get. "I mean everything, how you look like this, where you have been, and what you have been bloody doing!" She nearly screeched, an undercurrent of worry underneath the anger. Harry must have heard it, for he grinned sheepishly, apologized for worrying her (she turned bright red at that), and began his ridiculous tale.
"You see, it all started when a man named Checkerface…"
An: Yes! Done!
