Disclaimer: Still don't own Harry Potter or NCIS. Daniel Mason is mine though, as is the plot.
Stuff: So, to those of you who have pointed it out, I have been spelling Emmeline's name wrong. Thank you! I will be changing it. I just couldn't figure out why it looked weird, and spell check is useless sometimes. I think that the way this story is going to go is that I'll go through phases of quick updates when that spark of creativity and drive for this story is still there, then have times when updates are fewer and farther between, when my writer's block takes over. I will do my best to keep the gap between updates as small as possible though. On that note, thank you for all of the reviews! They truly are amazing—you know how fire needs fuel, air, and heat to burn? Well, the reviews are like the fuel to this story! Thank you so much! Please send more—and feel free to criticize, just don't flame. I find it counterproductive for my writing style. Anyhow, read on!
Learning to Love
Chapter 9
"Harry. Harry, come on, wake up," came a voice. It was somewhat familiar, breaking through his comfortable sleep.
"'M comin', Aunt P'tunia," Harry replied groggily, sitting up and trying to find his glasses.
"Do I sound like your aunt to you?" Gibbs asked. The blurry form of the silver-haired man swam into vision.
"Oh!" Harry gasped, realizing where he was. Gibbs laughed, pressing his glasses into his hand.
"There you go," he said cheerfully. Or, as cheerful as Leroy Jethro Gibbs gets. "You hungry? I've got some pancakes on the stove. Speaking of which, I need to go check on them. Just come out when you're ready." With that he left, ruffling Harry's hair once more.
Harry sat in bed for a few moments, trying to process what had happened. Coming to America…finding the body…NCIS…the Dursleys getting arrested…coming home with Gibbs…and then—and then—
He had told Gibbs and the others about magic, along with a wizarding social worker and a liaison with the British Ministry…and the director of NCIS. And they had taken it well. And now Gibbs was making him pancakes…no one had ever done that for him before. Well, not that he could remember, anyway. Mrs. Weasley had already been making breakfast for her family, so he had kind of just been there, and the Leaky Cauldron served breakfast that he had to pay for. But this…It was all so overwhelming…so foreign.
Deciding to get up, Harry carefully swung himself out of bed. Opening his suitcase, he chose the smallest, least threadbare clothes he could find and threw them on. It wouldn't do for Gibbs to see the worst of the rags that the Dursleys had given him—the man had shown extreme disapproval at the Dursley's treatment of him.
Padding into the kitchen, Harry was greeted by the sight of a large stack of pancakes that was only growing taller. Gibbs stood at the stove, whistling as he flipped yet another sweet-smelling circle onto the plate. He looked up as Harry entered.
"Hey kid," he greeted, quirking a smile. "Grab a plate. Syrup's in the cupboard." He gestured toward said cupboard, before realizing that Harry's slight form would be unable to reach it without help.
"I can—"
"No problem," Gibbs reached up and grabbed the Mrs. Butterworth's and placed it on the counter. Harry grabbed a plate from the stack and went to stand by the stove, feeling slightly awkward not being the one doing the cooking. "Here" He took a fork and stabbed through four of the pancakes, allowing them to slide off onto Harry's waiting plate. He set the fork on the side, along with a butter knife and sent the boy in to the table.
"Thanks," Harry said quietly, squirting on the syrup and raising his knife. He cut out a square and put the pancake in his mouth. It was delicious.
"How is it?" Gibbs asked, hanging in the doorway.
"Really good," the boy replied, swallowing. A bit of syrup smeared in the corner of his mouth. Gibbs smiled.
"I'll get a napkin." He disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a paper towel that he handed to the blushing Harry.
"So why are there so many?" Harry asked, trying to draw the attention away from himself.
"Besides the fact that you need to get some meat on your bones? We're having guests. Don't worry, just the people from last night," Gibbs assured Harry, who had tensed in apprehension.
"Okay." The door opened.
"Gibbs!" came a happy, hyperactive female voice. Abby came running into the room, throwing her arms around Gibbs' neck. "And Harry!"
Harry flinched slightly as she bounded up and ruffled his hair, but grinned up at her all the same. Gibbs shook his head.
"Pancakes are in the kitchen, Abs," he told her, only to have her rush past him to get a plate. He shook his head.
"You get used to her," he said to Harry, who grinned again.
"So I've heard." The door opened again.
"Dang it! Abby beat me! You better have left some pancakes for me, Scuito!" Tony yelled from the hall. A sigh escaped Gibbs' lips.
"What've I told you about yelling in the house, DiNozzo?" he called.
"Sorry boss," Tony said as he passed them, heading to the kitchen.
"I thought you didn't have kids?" Harry smirked.
"Funny," Gibbs drawled. Inwardly he winced—he knew he would have to tell Harry about Shannon and Kelly eventually. It just hurt so bad. But he would be the last one to admit it, as well as the last one to say that Harry was good for him—a way to move on.
Eventually everyone arrived, with only a few minor injuries resulting from Tony and Abby being in the same kitchen with Gibbs' cooking. After breakfast (which Gibbs had had to prevent from turning into a syrup fight) they all seated themselves in the living room, Harry beside Gibbs again. He was slowly acclimating himself to being close to the man, but it was getting better.
"Well, I have to admit that that was some of the best breakfast I've had in a long time," Daniel announced, belching loudly and receiving a high-five from Tony. Emmeline rolled her eyes in disgust. "So, onto the first order of business—"
"The dead Petty Officer," Emmeline interrupted, feeling a headache coming though it wasn't even noon yet.
Harry had been filled in over breakfast, after much arguing the night before over what he should be told. Finally it had been decided that it was safer for him if he knew that it was possible for someone to be after him—so long as he didn't try to get too involved.
"Do we have any leads?" Leon asked. Daniel shook his head.
"I still need to contact the Lavine family," he said, grimacing.
"What was the spell, anyway?" Harry asked, curiosity getting the better of him. Emmeline and Daniel exchanged glances. Everyone else perked up as well.
"Well you see, there are three spells that are classified as Unforgivable by the International Confederation of Wizards," Daniel started slowly. "You'll probably be learning about them soon in Defense—"
"I wouldn't count on it, with our Ministry," Emmeline broke in.
"Plus our Defense teachers aren't very…consistent," Harry added, with Emmeline nodding her agreement.
Daniel sighed. "Alright then. In that case, let's start out off topic, shall we? In Britain, the penalty for using an Unforgivable on another human being is a life sentence in Azkaban, I believe." He looked questioningly at Emmeline, who nodded. He brushed a brown lock out of his eyes. "In America, we have our own…punishment." He shuddered. "But I won't get into that right now.
"The first Unforgivable is the Cruciatus Curse. It causes extreme pain to the victim—to them time loses all meaning. A few seconds can feel like hours. But a full two minutes under a proper Cruciatus can cause nerve damage—any more than four could cause irreparable brain damage. Insanity."
"Do you know Neville Longbottom, Harry?" Emmeline inquired softly. Harry nodded in confusion.
"We sleep in the same dorm," he said. "He's nice."
"So were his parents," she said heavily. "Frank and Alice were friends of mine during the last war. They were tortured to insanity by Death Eaters after the fall of You-Know-Who."
"So that's why Neville lives with his grandmother…" Harry said quietly. "He never said…"
"Just try and keep it to yourself," she told him. "Let Neville tell everyone when he's ready."
No one spoke, as though everyone were partaking in an unplanned moment of silence for the Longbottom family. Gibbs gently stroked Harry's back, understanding how hard it must be for the boy to hear about one of his friend's hardships. Finally, Leon spoke.
"So, the other two?" he asked quietly. He had only heard generalizations, nothing this in-depth as far as the tabooed spells went. Daniel coughed.
"Yes, of course." He had heard about the Longbottoms—the trial of their torturers got media coverage even in America. But to him, they had always been silhouettes—heroes, but faceless heroes nonetheless. Now he was sitting in a room with a friend of theirs and a boy who was a friend of their son's. He took a breath and continued in his explanations, idly wondering with a measure of irritation why Emmeline couldn't be doing it.
"Next there's the Imperius Curse. When done properly, it allows the caster to take complete control over the victim. It is possible to throw it off, but it can take a lot of work. If done improperly, it can cause brain damage as well—just not as severe as the Cruciatus.
"The final curse…the Avada Kedavra. The Killing Curse," he paused, looking at Harry. The boy's hand moved unconsciously to his forehead, touching the lightning bolt scar. Daniel nodded, telling him that his suspicions were correct.
"The only way to survive it is to summon something between you and it. There aren't any shields. Only one person has ever lived after being hit with it, and he became famous for it," he finished with an odd, twisted look on his face, as though he were trying to smile while licking a lemon.
"Is it green?" Harry asked after a moment, small voice breaking through the silence.
"Huh?"
"The curse…is it green?" Daniel's eyes hardened.
"How did you know that?"
"I…remember," Harry admitted. "I used to have a nightmare about a flash of green light, and later I remembered Voldemort laughing…it was that night." Gibbs' arm tightened around Harry's shoulders. Another round of silence followed.
"I still can't help but feel that we are missing something," Ziva finally said, frustrated. The others nodded, but an odd look passed over Tony's face.
"There's no such thing as a coincidence!" he yelled triumphantly, much to the confusion of the rest of the group.
"I knew you were slow, Tony, but don't tell me you're still stuck on that?" McGee quipped.
"Don't start on me, McGuppy," Tony shot back without missing a beat. "That—that one curse. What happened if you didn't do it right?"
"'That one curse' narrows it down to three, DiNozzo," Vance reminded him.
"Right. Um…'Imerious'…'Impompius'…'Im—'"
"Imperius?" Daniel asked, eyebrow raised.
"That's the one!" Tony grinned.
"It can cause brain damage—"
"Enough to make an old woman believe that a grown man is her nine-year-old grandson?" he pointed out. McGee and Ziva gasped.
"That lady from the hotel! She thought that we were her grandkids, Gibbs was her son, and Ducky was her husband!" McGee remembered.
"And I was supposedly your friend," Ziva added.
Emmeline nodded slowly. "It could be." She traded a look with Daniel. He rose, walking away from the group, pulling a chain out from under his shirt. Hanging from it was a pendant featuring what appeared to be a caduceus, with a wand rather than a staff. Underneath was inscribed "WCPS". He brought it to his mouth.
"I need a small team of aurors and mind healers sent to…" he listed the hotel and address, detailing the symptoms of the woman and the suspected cause. He returned to his seat, shooting a crooked grin at Harry.
"Y'know kid, I made a big mistake in thinking this was gonna be simple. This kind of thing happen often?"
"You have no idea," Harry mumbled into Gibbs' side. Honestly, he had never known how easy it was to fall asleep when someone was stroking your hair…a chuckle rose in Gibbs' chest.
"Tired? You were up late last night—wanna take a nap?"
"No!" Harry yelped, jerking into an upright position immediately. The group tried to control their laughter.
"Merlin, Harry, you had a long day yesterday. You've gotta be tired," Daniel pointed out.
"And I'll never get used to the time difference if I keep sleeping," Harry retorted, remaining stubbornly upright. Gibbs sighed—something that seemed to be a more and more common occurrence.
"Fine," he conceded. "But you're going to bed on time tonight."
"Okay," the near-fourteen-year-old agreed.
"So, the next problem—"
"Harry's schooling," Gibbs put in. Daniel pouted.
"Can't I get a word out?" he grumbled. Gibbs made eye contact with Tony.
WHACK! Daniel rubbed the back of his head. "Hey! What was that for?"
"You work with Team Gibbs, you learn to live with Gibbs," Abby said happily. Tony snorted.
"So says the one who's never been Gibbs-slapped," he muttered.
"What was that, Tony?" Abby said sweetly.
"I said—"
"Do I need to come over there?" Gibbs asked. They immediately stopped bickering and shook their heads. "Good. Now, what are we doing about Harry's school?"
"I want to go to Hogwarts," Harry automatically said.
"Isn't it all the way in Scotland?" Ducky asked, frowning. "I know it can be hard to move to a new school, Harry, but attending school all the way across the ocean is quite—"
"We could use magic transportation," Harry pleaded. Gibbs frowned slightly. It was good that Harry was coming out of his shell and asking for things, but why was this so important to him?
"Harry," he began gently. "I'm sure there are perfectly good magical schools here in America." He silently cursed as he saw the boy begin to close up. "Why are you so set on Hogwarts? No, don't do this."
Harry's eyes were darting around as though looking for an escape route. Gibbs quickly waved the others from the room, glaring at Daniel when he showed hesitancy. He pulled Harry onto his lap in the chair, much like he had down in autopsy the day before.
"Harry, I just want you to talk to me," he said soothingly. Harry closed his eyes and leaned up against Gibbs' chest, trying to control his breathing. Anger flared up inside of him. Why was he allowing this man to get to him? He had been doing perfectly fine before they had gotten involved—he had lived with the Dursleys for nearly thirteen years. Sure it wasn't the perfect lifestyle, but he had Hogwarts, and Ron, and Hermione—
He ripped himself out of Gibbs' embrace, backing up slowly. Gibbs was shocked at the level of anger shown in the boy's vivid green eyes and slowly, without any sudden movements, slid off the chair.
"Harry—"
"No!" Harry yelled. "You don't know what it's like—I didn't have any friends before I went to Hogwarts! Dudley scared them all away! Ron and Hermione are the only ones I have! Hogwarts is my home! It's the only place I've ever belonged!"
Looking past the anger, Gibbs saw the anguish and fear in the young boy's eyes. He was afraid—afraid of getting close to anyone, afraid that his best friends would be taken away, and afraid that the only place he had ever called home would cease to exist in his world. He reached forward and pulled Harry into his arms, allowing him to collapse exhaustedly into them.
"I'll do my best," he promised. "I'll do my best to make sure you don't lose that. But I hope that you can come to see that it's not the only place that you belong."
A/N: So, kind of rough ending there. Short chapter too, I think. But it's an update! But now, the fun part: OPINION TIME!
SHOULD Harry take Gibbs' last name? If so, how (like, Potter-Gibbs, Potter Gibbs, Gibbs-Potter, Gibbs Potter, or just Gibbs)?
SHOULD, at ANY POINT IN THE STORY, Harry call Gibbs "Dad"?
WHY is the author using caps lock?
Um, yeah, so the reason I don't do polls is because I don't just go off of numbers (how many people like what). I like to listen to people's arguments as to "why" or "why not". So yeah. Also, I could use some movie references for Tony, if it's not too much trouble. Thanks!
