Mutant Son

Summary: X-Men Movie Verse/HP Crossover. SLASH (non-graphic). Pyro/Harry. The last thing Snape told the Order before he betrayed them was that Voldemort was searching for his son. The Order somehow finds his son before Voldemort does and makes a trip to Xavier's.

Warnings: Slash (not graphic). Crossover.

Chapter Ten: The Most Dangerous Game

John was avoiding Harry. That much was clear. In the last twenty-four hours, Harry had seen him twice. Both times John quickly turned and left the room. Hermione had that look on her face like she knew exactly what was going on. So Harry was avoiding her. And John was avoiding him. Fuck.

He was looking for John when he ran into Hermione. He figured that was karma for something he had done. But then again he figured karma owed him one not the other way around. Harry considered turning around for a moment but the glare his friend sent him kept him in his place. She grabbed his arm and dragged him to the nearest closed door. She threw him into the room (which turned out to luckily be the empty living room), shut the door behind him, and turned to face him, arms crossed over her chest.

"So when were you going to tell me?" she asked, her voice softer than her stern demeanor.

"Tell you what?" he tried to sound innocent, but knew it was fruitless.

Hermione sighed and gestured for him to sit on the small couch. She followed and joined him. There were a few moments of awkward silence during which Harry looked at his feet. Finally, she began. "What exactly is going on between you and John?"

"What do you think is going on?" Harry returned. John had this habit of turning questions around on people. Harry clearly wasn't as skilled but he really didn't want to tell Hermione too much. But then again, Hermione didn't look very angry at the moment. Just curious. Of all people, Hermione would accept him for anything.

"Honestly, Harry?" she looked very compassionate at the moment. "I don't know. I just know something is going on between the two of you. And seeing as he spends a lot of time blatantly flirting with you and you have an odd tendency to stare at him, I'm guessing it's something romantic."

Harry smirked for a second. "I thought you thought I was staring at Ginny?"

"You corrected me of that illusion yourself," Hermione responded in her no nonsense tone. "Harry, no more games. Let me in." She looked so sincere at that moment that he stopped caring what she would think. He really needed someone to talk to, especially now that John was avoiding him.

"I don't know how much of it is romantic," he admitted, refusing to meet her eyes. "At least on his part." Then he took a deep breath and got it out before he could rethink it. "But we're sleeping together, well almost. Or well, not sleeping, but you get the gist?"

Harry looked up and Hermione was looking at him with so much feeling he couldn't tear his eyes away again. "Oh, Harry," she said quietly. "Tell me everything."

So he did. He told her how it began. How at first it was just a physical thing. Though he spared her the details, he told her that sometime after he joined the Order he started feeling more. John had too. Harry had thought that at best John considered him a friend. Perhaps friends with benefits. Then last night had happened. John had said he was loyal to Harry Potter. What was he supposed to think now?

Hermione pulled him into a crushing hug once he was done. "Oh, Harry," she said again.

"You keep saying that," Harry said jokingly, sending a small grin. "You have anything else to say? Because I could really use your brains. God, I thought my life was crazy enough with Voldemort, now John…." He trailed off, running a hand through his hair. "I've never felt this way before. Ginny and Cho…they didn't even come close."

Hermione smiled softly. It wasn't a typically happy smile, but Harry couldn't read anything else from it. "Harry, I don't know what you want me to say. I can tell you everything is going to be alright, but I don't know that. I don't know if this will be a comfort to you or what, but I do think John feels strongly for you, or is at least getting there. But John isn't like most people I've ever met. I don't know if feeling for you is enough."

She sighed and took Harry's hand. He wanted to pull away. Years of barely having physical contact screamed at him to do so. But he didn't want to hurt Hermione's feelings. "I'm not going to lie to you. I don't think this is healthy. The way you described this—well this relationship—as an addiction. Plus, neither of you can hide from who you are. As much as you hate it, you are Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. And he is You-Know-Who's son. Not to mention that you are both guys. This is war. It complicates everything."

Harry nodded. She hadn't said anything he hadn't already thought. "Have you…have you spoken to Ron?" he asked hesitantly.

This time her smile was amused. "He hasn't a clue. But depending on how this works out, you will have to tell him."

"I know," he sighed. "I'm not looking forward to that. Do you think anyone else knows?"

"I had my suspicions."

Harry and Hermione whirled towards the door and Harry found his wand in his hand. But it was only Remus. Damn, lock the door he scolded himself. He had just assumed that Hermione had. Remus eyed Harry's wand in amusement before taking a seat on the armchair across from the couch Hermione and Harry were on. Harry tucked his wand away.

"I didn't hear you come in," Harry said needlessly.

Remus gave him a small smile. "There are others who have their suspicions," he continued. "McGonagall and Tonks. Ginny is at least suspicious of John. Other than that I think your secret is safe."

"Do you think secrecy is best?" Hermione asked surprised.

Remus eyed her carefully. "Usually, no. But Harry is in a unique position. You said it yourself; he can't separate himself from Harry Potter. And people are looking towards Harry Potter, now."

Harry nodded. "And at the end of the day, all people will see is two guys. And John is still Voldemort's son," he said, standing and striding to the fireplace. He put his hand on the mantle, his posture stiff and angry. He whirled to face Hermione and Remus. "But why is that so important? It's just blood. John is not Voldemort."

Remus shook his head. "Don't be blind, Harry. He is his father's son and he has a choice to make."

Harry glared at him. "He's already made that choice. He said he's loyal to me, whatever that means."

"We'll see Harry, we'll see," Remus said softly. "Don't get me wrong. I like the boy, but he's had a hard life and he hasn't come out of it as whole as you have."

Harry shook his head angrily. "Obviously you don't know me as well as you think," he bit out. He gestured to himself. "You call this whole? Maybe I just cover up the missing pieces for all your sakes. Maybe I can't sleep at night, can't stop the nightmares. And it's about to get worse. I know that. The war hasn't even hit full force yet. One way or another, I'm not coming out of this whole."

"Harry—" Hermione started.

"No, Hermione, don't. I have to go," and he stormed out of the room. He had some thinking to do. And a mutant to speak to.

John was lying on his bed, shaping a ball of fire into different objects in his room, when his door swung open. Well, Harry finally cornered him. And he looked angry.

"I didn't expect you to be someone that runs and hides," Harry glared.

John shrugged, sitting up so that he wasn't lying flat. Not a safe position. "I'm a runaway," he responded nonchalantly. "Run and hide is part of the definition."

"Cute," Harry seemed to be losing some of his anger, becoming more nervous. He pretended to study John's room. "Still, why?"

John rolled his eyes, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "That's a fucking stupid question, isn't it?" he asked clearly annoyed. "I'm loyal to only me and here I am fucking declaring my loyalty to some guy—" he gestured haphazardly towards Harry.

"Are you kidding me?" Harry all but snapped. "Some guy? Gee, how you flatter me." They stood there glaring at each other for a couple of seconds before John jumped up and roughly slammed Harry into the wall. Harry didn't flinch and refused to tear his glare away from John's.

"Am I someone you want to swear loyalty to you?" John asked softly. "Voldemort's son? Someone who gets off on his own powers? I'm dangerous and I don't think you get that."

Harry's glare softened. "You're not dangerous to me," he said. "Listen, I'm not one to talk about feelings and I know you're not either." Harry pushed John away from him slightly. "But this is more than just fooling around now, whether I want it to be or not."

John nodded, pushing away from him. "God, Bobby would be laughing at me if he saw me now," he laughed slightly.

"Why do you always talk about Bobby?" Harry asked, moving past John to sit on his bed.

"Are we talking? I thought we didn't do that," John said, throwing himself onto his bed beside Harry. Harry only shrugged. "Bobby's a friend. Best friend I guess. He got me to give people a chance. I hated him but he wouldn't give up until I was his friend. You'd like him. He's all good intentions and big on honor and all that crap."

"All that crap," Harry repeated settling in beside him. "Have you told him about me?"

John shook his. "You guys don't have a phone and I haven't been able to get out to send a letter."

"You can borrow my owl. You should be able to talk to him," Harry responded. He couldn't imagine not talking to either Ron or Hermione. That summer before second year had been torture. Harry got quiet for a moment before leaning in to kiss John softly, unchartered territory. John responded and for once let him drive the kiss. However, it didn't stay soft for long and soon it was as passionate as ever. John straddled Harry removing his own shirt before moving for Harry's. Harry sought any contact he could get as the clothes continued coming off. They were down to their boxers and as things got more intense, Harry knew they would both be getting off very soon.

When they were both coming down, sweaty and out of breath, John moved his body so it was wedged slightly beneath his and rested his head on Harry's chest.

"Hermione and Remus know about this."

"You mean us?" John asked. Harry nodded. "I figured they'd figure it out. It's getting late."

Harry groaned and went to get dressed but John pulled him back down. "You can stay," John suggested and Harry only nodded again.

There was a loud knocking on John's door before it quickly swung open. John jumped up, wielding his lighter at the same time that Harry awoke, looking for his wand before realizing it was in his jeans which were lying on the floor. McGonagall stood in the doorway for a moment, clearly surprised to find them together, mostly undressed, before quickly shaking it off.

"Pyro, you're needed. The Death Eaters have set fire to Diagon Alley," she said quickly. "Potter, you come too."

They both quickly pulled their clothes on. As they followed closely behind McGonagall, they spotted a few more members of the Order waiting in the hallway. "Others will meet us there," McGonagall announced. "The plan is to either distract or take out the Death Eaters while Pyro handles the fires. Kingsely will lead the Aurors, The rest of you," McGonagall glanced at a few of the assembled Weasleys and other Order members that were assembled, "follow Remus's lead."

John had never been in a battle. Sure he had seen them in movies. What guy his age hadn't? He figured he knew a little bit more of battle than most because he had survived the streets and he went to a school where the teachers were practically superheroes and faced battles on a regular basis. Plus, you know, danger room sessions. But this…this was different.

When Harry had basically teleported him into what he supposed was a wizard's strip mall, he could notice only one thing. The fire. There was so much of it and it called out to him, asking him to shape it, telling him to destroy. John thought he heard someone gasp "Fiendfyre."

He needed to take a few breaths to gain back his mind because his blood was boiling, wreaking havoc to his senses. The next thing he became aware of was the screaming and the shouts. He spotted a woman cowering in an alleyway. The next second he was watching two people engage in a battle of what appeared to be dangerous lighting. Then there were more people fighting. And more people screaming. All this took a few seconds to see. There was just so much going on. Harry squeezed his shoulder briefly then took off running, shouting instructions at the people that appeared with them.

Harry had a job to do. So did he.

John turned again to the fire and raised a hand, trying to pull it down. Contain, then put out. He could do this. The problem was that this fire was like no other he ever felt. It was dangerous; it was completely out of control and bent on spreading. But John controlled fire and he took a breath. He had a job to do. People to save. Damn, he was turning into a White Hat.

Harry didn't think. He just did. It had kept him alive this long. He had not only survived Voldemort a few times this way, he had also survived the Dursleys. He tended to act on instinct but this was different. People were depending on him. Yet it wasn't different. You threw him in a dangerous situation and he survived. You threw him in a dangerous situation with other people behind him, he gave orders. This was his war. He wouldn't let others die because he wasn't strong enough. They were his responsibility.

"Spread out," Remus shouted over the noise. "Create a perimeter around Diagon Alley. We want the Death Eaters on the inside, closer to the fire."

Then they were off and he couldn't think of them because he was soon fighting a faceless Death Eater. He ducked a slash of yellow light and rolled as he saw the Death Eater take aim again. Before the robed figure could recover, Harry shouted, "Expelliarmus!" The wand was out of the Death Eater's hand. "Stupefy!"

Harry stepped over his fallen opponent and moved on to the next.

It was all John could do to keep the fire from spreading. But he had. The fire was contained but it didn't want to die. John had always found that putting out fires was harder than controlling them but this…this was ridiculous. Then John realized that he had a weapon. A seemingly endless supply of fire. What if he could help the Order?

He took a moment to glance at those around him. He thought he saw someone he recognized lying on the floor but it was too chaotic to tell. Harry seemed to be successfully fighting off one of the robed figures—Death Eaters, he remembered—but behind him a fight was finishing and another Death Eater turned to face Harry. John didn't even have to think about it. He pulled from the fire he controlled and directed it at the figure threatening Harry. As the fire hit the figure, burning it so quickly the screams only lasted for seconds, John turned to attack others.

It may have made it easier for the Death Eaters to organize when they could automatically recognize those among their ranks, but it also made it easier for the enemy. John attacked masked figure after masked figure, incapacitating some, surprising others. The fighting stopped and chaos seemed to reign. The Death Eaters began to apparate away and the Order found shelter against the flames. But John smiled. Didn't they know he wasn't aiming for them anyway? John was in his element.

For a moment Harry thought John had lost control of the fire. The he realized two things. One: only Death Eaters were going down. Two: John was smiling. Harry realized this battle just got a whole lot easier. That was until he noticed the brave (or stupid) Death Eater sneaking up behind John. Harry stunned the approaching figure. John was so into the fire that he never even noticed.

"What do we do?" a voice from his left asked. Harry didn't bother turning to check who had asked him.

"The Death Eaters seem to be fleeing," Harry answered watching as the last darkly clad figure disapparated.

"Harry?" This voice was familiar so Harry tore his eyes away from John and looked over. Remus was alternating between looking at Harry and looking at John. Harry realized that while he was addressing Harry, he couldn't help but keep an eye on John. The look on his face and those around him seemed to portray John as a threat. "John does not seem to be stopping."

And he was right. John was no longer aiming the fire at opponents but he was allowing the fire to grow bigger and bigger, surrounding him and climbing towards the sky. Harry could feel the overwhelming heat from where he stood.

"I'll handle that," Harry gave Remus a reassuring smile. Now he just had to figure out how to reach John through the wall of heat and fire. But it soon became apparent that it wasn't necessary. Slowly the fire shrank and John's body shook until the fire was completely out.

Harry rushed to check on him. John seemed to be catching his breath. Harry opened his mouth to speak but noticed that John's eyes were transfixed on something behind Harry. Harry followed his gaze to see a charred body—the first Death Eater John had taken out. He tried to keep John from moving towards it.

John knelt beside the body. The smell of burnt flesh was terrible but Harry faced it. He didn't know what was going on with John. "John?" Harry asked tentatively. He noticed that the other Order members were either watching them or tending to the wounded.

John didn't look up but he responded. "I did this," he stated. His voice was neutral, a tone that often infuriated Harry because he couldn't read it. Harry didn't know what to say. He stood slightly behind John, watching him. "Harry, I think I'm going to be sick."

He suddenly jumped to his feet and headed towards the nearest alley. Harry followed. John quickly emptied his stomach of all contents, heaving. Squatting on the ground, John had faced the wall. When he was done his eyes remained closed and he braced himself on the wall. Harry heard footsteps behind him.

It was McGonagall. "Harry…John," she said. "You two need to get out of here. It's not safe. Ministry officials are coming." Harry noticed that her eyes were focused on John. She seemed to half evaluate him and half worry for him.

Harry nodded. "I'll get us out of here." He faced McGonagall momentarily. "When you get back, don't look for us."

She nodded in understanding and Harry returned his attention to John. "Hey, I need you to stand so I can apparate." John nodded, not speaking, and Harry took hold of his arm as he stood and returned them to Grimmuald Place with a loud crack.