A Lesson Learnt Too Well

by: Yidkirkin of the Warhammer

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

To Kanikula; Thanks!

SPOILERS

Upon waking, Harry initially huddled back into the squishy material encasing him, simultaneously trying to keep himself warm but also feign continued sleep. His body buzzed and felt too tight, too uncomfortable, and his hair was loose but there was still something wrapped over his temples, obscuring the vision of his left eye. There was a clock loudly ticking somewhere nearby, and either a radio or a television playing as well; light was shining through his single eyelid, bright enough that it must have been nearly noon by now. Paying close attention, he could hear the noise of the city through a window, feel a slight cold breeze against his face, and it smelled of snow and cigarette smoke.

Harry blinked a few times and stared up at the blurry ceiling, not recognizing it. Looking to the right he saw that he had been pushed against an avocado coloured wall, and to his left he could make out a few shapes that he figured must be the furnishings of the apartment. There was a dark coloured desk or table across the room, a bookshelf next to that, and half a wall separating this room from another that Harry had to think was a kitchen. The light was flooding in from above his head, and craning his neck afforded him a view of a large window slightly left open, through which lazed a figure that he knew was frustratingly, but unidentifiably familiar.

He tested each of his extremities carefully; he could immediately tell that the palms of his hands were badly scraped, two of the fingers on his non-dominant hand were bound together and forced straight, and the opposite forearm was wrapped tightly from his wrist to his elbow. There was padding and more tight wrapping on his left shoulder and around his torso, and though his stomach wasn't covered it hurt more than anything else did. Further down, his left knee felt like it was twice its normal size and both of his shins were bound, and when he tried wriggling his toes none hurt very badly but his right pinkie toe was splinted and tingling. Shifting his head, he could now tell that there was a wad of padding taped to his lower left jaw and over his smarting nose, which meant that his left eye was probably covered by the same, and it was gauze that was securely coiled around his skull –with more absorbent padding over his left temple and most of his forehead.

How had he ended up here? Neville had left on the Knight Bus, he had started to make his way home... there had been Double Heads Dragon members following him and he had tried to run for the back entrance but he must have chosen the wrong alley. They had said something about a golden opportunity and delivered some kind of message, and he had tried to fight them off before they had overwhelmed him and –and then...

The click of the window being pulled up jarred him out of his reverie, and he flinched in surprise which only made his pain spike and he gasped against his will. Whoever had been outside was now back in, and Harry kept his eye shut in discomfort while they shuffled about before something angular and well known to him was pressed against his cheek.

"Your glasses." A boy said, familiar but for the life of him Harry couldn't place him. Harry hated that he couldn't tell who it was, and so he painstakingly extracted a hand from the confines of the sleeping bag to grasp shakily at his miraculously intact glasses.

"Thanks." Harry said as he pushed them onto his face awkwardly, a tad difficult due to his no doubt broken nose and the manner in which it had been bound, but still possible. The clarity blindsided him for a few seconds –he recognized the ceiling now, it was just like his own –and he turned to see who was sitting next to him before sucking in a startled breath when it turned out to be the boy who had yelled at him over a cigarette.

He was probably around the same height and age as Harry, with eyes that were nearly black and light brown hair tied into a high ponytail to keep it out of his face. It was almost like how Malfoy kept his but was significantly shorter and this guy had shaved the sides down as well. He had olive coloured skin dotted with old scars, fresh bruises and a multitude of bandaids, and he was wearing a black house coat over a white shirt and washed out jeans.

"You're the same newcomer they say went toe-to-toe with that Maekawa asshole, right?" He demanded without preamble, staring down at Harry with intensity the wizard was rarely subjected to. The way he asked irked Harry something fierce, and he glared up at the other for a minute while trying to decide what to say.

"Be careful who you insult." Harry said at length, well aware that by the snort the other let out it had probably come off more like a sulking little kid posturing than the warning he had hoped for.

"I don't want to hear that from some bastard wrapped up like a mummy." He shot back, flicking Harry's injured forehead hard enough to make him flinch. "But I guess that's answer enough!"

"What does it matter to you anyways?" Harry demanded without any heat, somehow feeling calm despite this vulnerable position he was in –cigarette-boy flicked him again, looking annoyed now.

"I came here myself last year, and was taken in by Corrina." He said, and though Harry glared at him through the stinging headache that was coming on he decided it would be best to just listen and get this over with. "I didn't know what she was getting at, telling me to pay attention to some punkass with ties to the EMOD, but I did. You'd pissed me off even before hanging out with that prick though, so I thought that sooner or later I would end up snapping and would make you see just how much of a shit decision it was to stick around here!"

Faintly, Harry realized that with his body not moving the way he wanted it to, being so injured, there was a good chance that cigarette-boy was going to get so frustrated talking that he might punch something if he didn't calm down –and Harry was in just the right place that he was a sure target. But he needn't have worried so much, because in the next minute the other teen had barked out a laugh and relaxed, grinning at him like he hadn't just been implying that he had planned to beat him up enough that he would want to leave town.

"But man, I think I misjudged you! You had guts to try and take out those Dragon fuckers with those odds against you! I bet you could have taken them if they hadn't ganged up on you like that. That group wasn't made up of idiots, either." Harry turned fairly red at the praise, though from what he could recall he would have sworn that he hadn't actually fared very well. "It makes sense now, she must have seen that you'd eventually be a rival I'd have to go up against any number of times in the future! When you've recovered from this, let's have a proper fight!"

"Huh?" Harry asked smartly –was everyone he met in this town going to bring up fighting one way or the other?

"A man's only living when he has something to strive for, someone to measure up to!" Cigarette-boy said passionately, and Harry was sure for a second that there were actual stars in his eyes. "We're the same age, live in the same area, we're going to see each other around anyway. So we should have a proper fight, and then we can start off fresh!"

Harry stared at the still unnamed teen and was reminded rather well of a dog wagging its tail while waiting for praise, and the mental image was so unlike how he had perceived cigarette-boy before now that it made something switch in his mind and he started to laugh. The other had sat back by the time Harry dissolved into coughing and agonized groans, an irritated look in his eye at the chuckles Harry still managed to let out even while feeling like he was about to die.

"Q-Quit laughing you bastard! I was being serious!" He hissed, face gone beet red.

"Hah... I'm sorry..." Harry grinned, and began to push himself into a sitting position, valiantly ignoring his protesting body. "Sorry, you just c-caught me off guard. Sure, let's go at it once I stop feeling quite like I was run over by a train. I'm Harry Potter."

Cigarette-boy's eyes widened as Harry managed to stick out a hand for him to shake. "Roy Flores." He said, cheeks still red and grasping the appendage lightly so as not to reinjure it. "Sorry for cussing you out that one time."

"It's not a big deal." Harry assured him. "Do you have somewhere to sit up? The floor's not the most comfortable of places."

"Right! Here, let me help you..." Roy awkwardly unzipped the sleeping bag and pushed it off of Harry's legs, and when the wizard proved to have a hard time putting weight on the one with the swollen knee Roy gently slung the less injured of Harry's arms over his shoulder to assist him. The apartment seemed to be slightly larger than Harry's though not by much, and Roy had used what extra space he had to put a table next to the divide between the main room and the kitchen, which was where he and Harry ended up seated.

"Do you want anything to drink? I have coffee made up already." He offered.

"Sure, that would be nice... so, how did I end up here? I can't really remember much after my glasses got knocked off." Harry asked, shifting slightly every few seconds to try and find a position that didn't make his body scream in annoyance while Roy went into the kitchen to make up the drinks.

"Oh, well, after I took out those shits I found you passed out on the ground, and you were a little too injured to just wake up, so I brought you to Deana to get patched up and then here to sleep it off. I didn't want to try taking you home because that Johan guy probably would've called the cops on me." Roy said matter-of-factly. "It's eleven in the morning now, you've been asleep since I found you."

"How did you find –wait, you took those guys out by yourself?"

"Yeah, they weren't a problem for me at all!" Roy replied proudly. "Granted, that bat I found before they spotted me sure did help." He waved across the room, and Harry turned to see the wooden bat that had freaked him out the night before leaning innocuously against the sliding door. "I didn't know it was you originally, but I saw you run by with them hot on your heels –and the Dragons are all assholes anyway, so I wanted to at least see that they got their asses kicked one way or another."

"I'm glad you did." Harry accepted the steaming mug as it was passed to him, and then pulled the sugar bowl towards him to spoon a few dollops into the coffee. Roy was quiet as he stirred his own drink, and suddenly Harry was extremely conscious of the fact that he wasn't wearing his bandana nor the clothes he had dropped Neville off in hours prior –and he tried valiantly to distract himself. "Y-You mentioned that you don't like Muneharu?"

Roy scowled, but it didn't reek of malcontent the way Harry had seen the first time they had 'spoken', just irritation. "He kicked my ass when I first got here, but mostly I just don't like his attitude. He –he's not arrogant, 'cause he can walk the talk, but he's –he's, y'know, he's-"

"Conceited, right?" Harry suggested, having felt the same way on occasion over the past couple of months. "He takes any opportunity he gets to show off, I should know. He's incredibly proud of himself, and doesn't see anything wrong with that –not that there really is when you can back yourself up like he can. The only ones he really gets humble around are Dom and Nadia from what I've seen."

"Not even you?" Roy asked, sounding highly confused; Harry frowned.

"N-No? Why would he?"

"He recruited you, didn't he? I wouldn't've pegged you as the type to be swayed by just relentless hounding." Roy leaned back in his chair, looking slightly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking. "Y'know, I don't like him, but he's no moron. It's just the impression I got."

"Er, well, I wasn't... recruited by him, just so we're clear. I'm not a part of EMOD." Harry shrugged. "I mean, I'm affiliated with them, I suppose. I went to one of their parties and Muneharu's... he's one of my close friends –but as of now I'm not even a prospective member. But I guess it doesn't really matter anyway, 'haru told me people wouldn't care whether I actually was or not and would just assume what they wanted."

"So the Dragons are going after anyone even remotely connected to EMOD now? Their boss must have some sort of hard on for causing Herrera grief." Harry turned slightly red at the vulgarity of Roy's words, but inwardly agreed with it all the same. Then what Roy actually said filtered through his embarrassment, and he tried to stand up suddenly only to come crashing back to the seat with a pained gasp. "Woah, what's wrong?" Roy asked, and if Harry had doubted the other boy's sincerity before then he wouldn't anymore –most people were hard pressed to show even a fraction of the worry Roy was exuding, and they had barely known each other half an hour.

"Ergh... just remembered... what o-one of them told me to tell Dom." Harry wheezed out through the constriction in his lungs, trying to concentrate on making the pain lessen quicker. "Ah, if –if the Dragons keep –this up... hah, I've got to let Dom know sooner r-ather than later."

"Not in that state you don't! You'd keel over before you got halfway out the door." Roy tried to reason, but even with his mind clouded by pain Harry knew that this was important; he insisted that he had to let them know somehow, just in case, and eventually Roy relented.

The phone was modern, one of those newer cordless varieties that he vaguely remembered his aunt purchasing at one point in the summer –Harry had never had anyone to call before though, so he hadn't paid much attention. The throbbing in his limbs finally easing, he had a better time recalling Muneharu's work number and hoped that he wouldn't be interrupting one of the older teen's personal projects even as Douglas answered and Harry shakily asked for him to call Muneharu over. Roy pointedly stood then and flashed him a wave, before grabbing his carton of smokes and moving back towards the balcony, and Harry had a few seconds to wonder who was selling cigarettes to a thirteen year old before his friend answered with a tired greeting.

"He-Hey, 'haru, it's Harry. I didn't take you away from something important, did I?" Harry asked, voice a bit out of whack after the way his lungs had betrayed him.

"Harry! You're calling me!" Muneharu said, voice a paragon of happy confusion; he had given Harry his contact information, but Harry had never used it what with there being no phone in his apartment. "No, I was just about to take my break, what's up?"

"Well, last night... er. I was coming back from dropping a friend off, and there were some Double Heads Dragon members-" Harry heard something scrape loudly on the other side of the line and immediately felt on edge. "I –I'm fine now, but they sort of. Gave me a message for –uh, for Dom. I thought I should tell you as soon as possible."

"What did they say?" Muneharu asked coolly –Harry winced.

"It was, 'tell Hererra that Rafael's not going to be so kind next time'." The silence from Muneharu's end was deafening, and despite knowing the other well, having been his friend for nearly two months now and seeing him as sort of a –role model? –well, Harry felt the hairs on his neck stand up when Muneharu asked that he tell him where he was at the moment.

"Just a second." He pulled the receiver away from his mouth and covered it, hands jittery with a bit of fear he couldn't suppress as he called out to get Roy's attention. Muneharu was a wonderful person in a lot of ways, but sometimes Harry would see an expression on his face or hear him say something offhand and it would send a shiver down his spine. Not for himself, no, he knew that once Muneharu cared for someone it was almost impossible for him to go back on it, but he was definitely worried about what would happen when someone eventually came around and made Muneharu snap completely.

"Ap-partment 24, East Wing of the Joe Komp building in Edenton. Don't do anything to Roy when he answers the door." Harry could practically feel Muneharu's unspoken demand of 'why can't you open the door yourself', but he received an agreement before the line cut off abruptly.

Roy came back inside a few minutes later, and Harry warned him about the fact that the same person Roy professed to disliking immensely was about to come over in a bad mood, and that Harry would really appreciate it if Roy would let him in –if only to avoid a bigger confrontation. The other boy didn't like it (and complained profusely) but did agree in the end to being civil, if only because Harry had played up the 'injured houseguest' angle in an effort to gain sympathy.

Burke's Auto wasn't an incredible distance away, but it was still sooner than he had expected when Harry heard a distant stomping coming from the stairs, which quickly changed to boots down the hallway and then loud pounding on the door. Roy grumbled but wasted no time going to answer, yelling a bit when the hammering didn't let up, and then there was silence before Muneharu appeared in the door to the room. Harry tried to smile but it probably came off as a grimace as Muneharu took in his battered appearance, a dark and dangerous expression flickering over his face before it smoothed into one of pure concern.

Harry's nerves lessened significantly just from that.

"I brought him to a friend of mine to get patched up." Roy said, nudging Muneharu further into the room with an annoyed gleam in his eye at having to be in his presence. "She gave me a slip for what was wrong, I put it with your stuff when I brought you back here."

"Thanks, Roy." Harry said, and gingerly pulled the nearest chair out from the table, gesturing to it while shooting Muneharu an imploring look. His friend took a seat still wearing that concerned, subdued expression; Roy looked between the two of them uncomfortably for a moment before loudly declaring that he was going to go outside to have another smoke.

"You told me you got into trouble a lot," Muneharu said once the window was closed behind their host, an edge of amusement in his tone even with the careful study he was giving Harry's injuries. "I didn't expect you to be a trouble magnet."

"You haven't known me long enough, then." Harry joked half-heartedly.

"...maybe not." Harry blinked at Muneharu in surprise upon registering the serious sounding mutter. "You're not going to be up and running for at least a week, with that knee."

Sheepishly Harry looked down, and sure enough he could tell that it was swollen even underneath the thin track pants he was wearing. "Seems like it. I can't stand for even ten seconds and it barely hurts compared to the rest of me." There would be no magical healing this time around with both Roy and Muneharu having seen him like this. He flexed his hands as much as he could, glad that the scrapes covering his palms were already starting to close and look less inflamed. "But it isn't as bad as it could've been. I didn't give them the chance to use that." Here Harry smugly tilted his head towards the baseball bat Roy had pilfered, but he felt a little guilty when he saw that Muneharu's cheeks drained of all colour the instant he caught sight of it.

"Stay with me for a bit then." Muneharu offered instantly, earnestly. "Or let me kip at your place. You made the decision to cement ties with us, but you're my- ...it's my responsibility to make sure you heal properly."

"No, I wouldn't feel comfortable doing that. It's your place." Harry protested, but by the gleam in Muneharu's eyes he felt like he wasn't going to win this argument. "Honest, I had worse from playing sports last year, I'll be alright on my o-"

"You're too humble for your own good, Harry! And by now I should hope you've realized that you don't have to be alright on your own." Muneharu dismissed flippantly, crossing his arms. "I can't believe I have to say it, but you're like a little brother to me, and when I said that stuff about taking newcomers under wing, nothing magically excluded you. Rely on me for a while, if not for anything else then at least for this mess that was partially my fault."

"I-" Rely on me. Harry swallowed thickly, and didn't know how to react beyond, "I'll be in your care, then."

Vvv

With Muneharu at work for the last few hours of the day, Harry had no idea how to occupy himself in the unfamiliar apartment he was now going to be living in.

When they had left his place, Roy had been happy to see Muneharu go but reminded Harry of their promised fight and said that he should come by to visit if he was ever bored, which Harry agreed to easily. It was difficult getting down the rickety staircase with how injured he was, and they had puzzled over just how Roy had been able to manage it before Muneharu came to an epiphany and hoisted Harry up onto his back like a koala. They were stared at as they exited Roy's building and went up to Harry's (Rafid saw them in the hallway and almost had a panic attack) and while difficult to convince Muneharu had eventually agreed to let him gather his belongings by himself while he went to tell Johan what was going on and call a taxi.

Harry had spent a few minutes penning a letter to Mr. Kopinak, letting him know that he was changing residences for a week or two and wouldn't be able to attend class with how 'sick' he was. As a solution to the delay in class time he suggested that he try to take his exams at Hogwarts come June instead of the earlier dates they had tentatively sketched out. For good measure he had also written a quick missive to Gringott's to inform them of the same, but in the context that if anything came up with the Sirius Black situation he wouldn't be able to attend any meetings for at least two weeks.

Then, shuffling around on his one good leg, he'd filled his bag with his food money, clothes, toiletries, Sri Guru Singh class material, and any other miscellaneous items he thought he would require (though he would come back if he needed to, of course). Muneharu returned just as he was finishing up, and swung Harry up onto his back as gingerly as he could, careful again to avoid Harry's swollen knee. The taxi had been paid for and waiting, and within minutes they had been on their way –Muneharu had been apologetic, but had only been able to stay long enough to get him settled before running back to work to make up for storming out earlier.

So now Harry was sitting at the kitchen table (he refused to mess up his sleep schedule even more by lying down before the evening) with a lukewarm pot of tea, his backpack near his feet and his Gurmukhi exercises spread out in front of him, but no motivation to get any of it done. The past hour had been agonizing –he had always felt uncomfortable being in other people's homes even when they were present. From Mrs. Figg's or his aunt's friend Yvonne's or the Burrow to the Maekawa household, it was always like that, and it was even worse when he was alone because of how little experience he had with the situation.

He had turned on the radio to distract himself when he heard a familiar tapping on the pane of the kitchen window, and when he finally figured out how to open the damned screen the owl had grown so impatient that it had let the letter drop onto the sill and flown off. Harry huffed in amusement, snatched the letter before the wind could blow it away and quickly righted the window; he recognized the Gringotts seal on the outside of the scroll and was itching for information.

Silvermark had been the one to write to him, acknowledging his earlier letter and then telling him everything that he had been waiting to learn since the last update before Christmas. Ochrestone had been doing extensive research in their records to find the retrieval spell parameters, and currently was organizing the preparations needed to perform it –there would be charges to his account along the same lines that they had previously discussed, and Gringotts would take care of Sirius Black's subsequent holding and trial immediately upon his arrival if all went smoothly. And, like they had agreed, any decision on his fate would be made after finding out the truth... and after Harry had the chance to meet him, regardless of what that truth was.

Harry wasn't ecstatic, per say, but he felt mostly content at the news –certainly not irritated, as he had come to accept that even things put on rush like this took time to handle properly. He penned a response then and there and set it with his classwork to send out once Hedwig showed up again, and was in a much calmer mood when Muneharu actually did return for the day.

Which was evidently a good thing, as the older boy had deigned to bring Dominic Herrera back with him.

Harry was startled by the unexpected sight of Dom following Muneharu into the kitchen, expression serious and studying Harry with that certain look of carefully contained outrage. Again Harry felt small under his gaze, but resisted the urge to avert his eyes as Dom took a seat across from him at the table and Muneharu moved so that he hovered a few feet behind him, an unreadable expression on his face. Harry felt that he should try to say something –what, he had no idea –to put the situation at ease, but the sight of Muneharu's slight head shake out of his peripheral vision stopped him.

"I offer my deepest apologies to you, for getting you involved in our conflict like this, Harry." Dom eventually said, looking extremely troubled. "I realize that you knew the risks of associating with us, but this goes too far even for Mikawa. Rest assured that we're not just going to let this slide."

"Itakura and Madrina are already out looking for those guys who got the drop on you." Muneharu said. "And Wally's staked out the Dragon's base. They'll be taken care of once everyone's come to an agreement."

"Wait, wait! 'Taken care of'?" Harry asked, out of his depth.

"Mikawa was the one who ordered this, and he's been testing my patience for far too long." Dom explained. "I can't let him carry on this way, or next time it might be worse."

"Look, I know that you guys feel... responsible, for this, but-" Harry stalled briefly at the way both of the older boys frowned. "-but Roy already beat up the ones who actually did this. Is this some kind of –of bigger gang thing you guys want to wrap up? Is that why you're taking this so seriously?"

Dom's troubled look intensified and Muneharu let out a long suffering sigh. "Maybe," Dom started to say. "It would be better if you put it out of your mind for the time being and focused on recovering. I need to pick Charlie up soon anyway."

"Muneharu?" Harry asked.

"...Thanks, Dom. I'm sorry for taking up so much of your time lately." Dom scoffed and pat his shoulder heavily.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Don't forget I'm introducing the new prospects." Dom then raised a hand and turned briefly to regard Harry before he left. "Feel better, Harry. Leave Mikawa to us."

"But I don't –'haru what's going on?"

"Look, there are bigger things at play right now than just the Dragons attacking you." Muneharu started somewhat uncomfortably. "We appreciate that Flores guy acting on your behalf, but Rafael Mikawa had been a thorn in everyone's side for longer than you've been in Ginuliad. You being hurt isn't some measly pretext to kick their asses. This incident was one of over a hundred that Dom's had to deal with, that Dom tried to put off dealing with because of who Mikawa used to be to him. This made Dom see that... well, it's not my place to spell it out." Harry remained silent at the conflicted look on Muneharu's face. "Just know that you're not an excuse for what will happen, Harry. Please, I don't want to get into it at a time like this."

Harry swallowed the impulse to demand more information, taking in how frazzled Muneharu was acting, and instead agreed to put the issue aside.

Vvv

The two weeks Harry spent in Muneharu's company went slowly and slightly tensely at first, and then picked up once Harry grew more comfortable staying in the other's apartment and accepted that EMOD was going to do something about Double Heads Dragon whether he liked it or not. His injuries progressed much the same –he suspected that his magic might have helped with the healing, as according to the note that Roy's friend had left, he shouldn't have been as recovered as he was until the third or fourth week.

To occupy himself, Harry asked Nihal to bring him work on the days he normally would have taken classes, and he dug through Muneharu's cupboards to find ingredients to try and cook dinner with. When he was able to move around a bit more, Muneharu brought him into the shop and taught him a bit about the cars he was working on, as well as having him help with the moped project once his shift clocked out.

It wasn't as if he needed the break (after the weeks off he was given for Christmas) but Harry appreciated it nonetheless, especially when Mr. Kopinak finally got around to sending him his revised schedule for the semester. He would have fewer classes overall, but the difficulty of the classwork would be going up as well as the periodical testing that his tutor was required to give him. When he had nothing else to do and wasn't feeling up to accompanying Muneharu to work, he sat at the kitchen table and meticulously planned out a weekly schedule –he had learnt that he did best with structure and wanted to take advantage of the opportunity.

Muneharu had turned into a giant mother hen during the time Harry stayed with him, but as soon as the day came where Harry wanted to go back to his own place he reverted back to how he used to be. As much as the lack of teasing and the quiet had been nice while he was convalescing, Harry much preferred Muneharu being himself, even if he was overwhelming and a shit-disturber at times.

Luckily, his two weeks ended up being an ample amount of time for him to recover, just in time for Gringott's to summon him back for some required legal signatures before they finally went through with retrieving Sirius Black. He managed most of the trip into Diagon normally and only felt a bit woozy on his way back home, and then he was back to normal –with the only difference being his newfound friendship with Roy, who seemed to have become quite fond of talking with him even with Harry's friendship with Muneharu.

Overall, Harry would say that the EMOD party he had attended and the subsequent attack from Double Heads Dragon hadn't changed much of his day to day life; in fact, it was almost too smooth how little it had affected him overall, given the amount of time he was laid up in bandages. Once he was fully recovered he slipped easily back into his schoolwork with only concern from Mr. Kopinak to have to appease (those at Hogwarts remaining none the wiser of his ails) and the expected amount of anxiety as he waited for the Sirius Black situation to progress. He had ample free time to finish his assignments and do as he pleased, take classes at Sri Guru Singh, volunteer at the langar with Nihal and have tea with Rafid, and nothing would have changed from that routine for a good while had Ken Kuniyoshi not approached him one day in early February and offered him a job.

It was entirely unexpected, and threw Harry for a bit of a loop –with his apparent ever growing association with people involved in gangs (Roy being a Red Sabor prospect), he would have thought that his 'reputation' from Privet Drive as a ne'er-do-well might bleed into his life again against his will. But most of those he knew in Ginuliad just genuinely seemed to not care at all about that fact, and those who did professed to be concerned more with his health since it wasn't exactly a secret that he had been beaten up by the Dragons.

Ken, meanwhile, told him that Youji had recommended him for an assistant position when it had opened up and that he was willing to give him a chance on that alone. "Just so long as you work hard, I don't think I'll regret it. What do you say?"

Harry hadn't even thought about the fact that he would be busier than ever before he agreed.

Vvv