10/26: Updated this a bit, added some stuff.

There is a male/male pairing in this, (Xanxus/Squalo), so please don't read if such a thing offends you.

Thanks!

Blood in the Water

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Summary: Squalo died when Jager thrust his undead hand through his chest during the Representative Battles. The Varia SIC had no regrets- he'd done his damn job and saved his damn Boss. However, Fate has never been particularly kind to Squalo and he never should have expected his death to go smoothly.

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Superbi Squalo- at least that was what his Varia paperwork said his name was; only Xanxus boldly proclaimed his original name after joining the elite assassination squad- was absolutely certain that this was the end for him. Though he had a damn high pain tolerance, he could feel the agony creeping through his veins and wearing down his meticulously built-up defenses. The hand withdrew quickly and Squalo narrowly managed to throw his battered body sideways to intercept the blow his intuition told him was coming for his Boss.

He could hear Boss- Xanxus'- voice and knew that the man was likely throwing out all manner of threats towards him, but Squalo couldn't find the inner wellspring of steady strength that had always allowed him to overcome and overpower all of his other battles. He was in so much pain that it was mostly his battle-sharpened instincts that told him that their opponent was withdrawing his hand from the new hole that had been punched through Squalo's body. Tired in a way he had never been, Squalo still had a job to do- a promise to keep- and the Varia Rain recklessly pushed every ounce of Tranquility that he could manage out and through the limb that had wounded him.

Looks like you get to have a real fight, you damn Boss. Were the last thoughts of Superbi Squalo as the offending limb fully withdrew and Squalo's battered body hit the ground. Hah, guess Luss will have to be the Strategy Captain for real…..stupid….ookma….

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I'm going to murder that marshmallow obsessed freak! Squalo muttered angrily to himself as he tried to make sense of the situation that he had found himself in.

He had died. As in dead. He was pretty sure that unrepentant assassins went to Purgatory in the very least, if not fully down to the very depths of the 'bad guy' section of the afterlife.

They were not supposed to wake up as five year old brats!

Or, more correctly, in the body of a recently expired five year old brat. Squalo had been through and seen enough crazy shit in the Mafia to not spend more than a half an hour freaking out about being inside a body that most certainly did not belong to him. His genius mind had gone over every plausible theory- from a malfunctioning Bovino/Crazy Ass Inventors weapon to interference from the Marshmallow Obsessed Bastard, (hence the threat), but after that length of time Squalo resigned himself to being stuck in this situation for the foreseeable future.

Having decided that, after the half hour he allowed himself to be confused and panic in an entirely un-Varia Quality manner, the man, (at least mentally), shoved all of his thoughts, hysteria, and theories aside and tried to organize his thoughts.

Which was how he had found out that he was in the body of a recently expired brat. One named Harry Potter, to be exact. Squalo's highly efficient mind quickly ran through the fact he had gleaned from the memories he had found- and he was outside of the acceptable freaking out time limit so he would not allow that panic to grip him, thank you very much- and what he was going to change now that he was- well, here.

Harry Potter, five years old, nephew to Petunia Dursley, nee' Evans. Was left with his maternal Aunt after an accident claimed the lives of his parents. Residence belongs to Vernon and Petunia Dursley, who have one offspring named Dudley. Harry is required to do age-inappropriate chores- even for a Mafia household- and has been deeply negatively impacted due to constantly being in a highly toxic environment. Had a cold recently, but was not given a reduction in tasks causing the body to become overstressed.

That was as far as Squalo got before the door to the Cupboard- Harry's 'bedroom', his mind helpfully supplied- was pulled open and an old man who looked like he raided Lussuria's winter closet back when the ookama had gone through a '60's drug-themed wardrobe trend was suddenly in front of him. The fact that other than the clothes the man could have walked out of one of the Baby Boss' cartoons- he had long white hair, a white beard, and a pointy fucking hat- kept Squalo preoccupied just long enough to miss the stick- an actual knotty fucking stick- being waved at him before the body relaxed into unconsciousness.

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Squalo was in the frustrating position of being able to hear everything, but being unable to control the body he was in. Which meant that he could not see anything.

He had gathered that the cartoon guy was named 'Albus' and that he was a Headmaster of some sort. The other person in the room had been identified as 'Arabella' and the entire house smelled like cat. Someone had forced some vile concoctions down his throat and that was when Squalo's reality was once again turned onto its head.

Definitely going to murder that Marshmallow Obsessed bastard. No one else could possibly land me in a situation this fucked up. Squalo murmured angrily as he glowered down at the small child in front of him. Vaguely Squalo sensed that the body was being moved, and soon it was once again inside the underneath of the cupboard that it had been in when Squalo had originally arrived.

Or at least that Squalo sensed and had gathered from what he had heard from 'Albus' and 'Arabella'. Something about some sort of 'potion' taking care of the 'splintergoit'- whatever the fuck that was.

However Squalo had other things to deal with at the moment.

"So you're Harry then?" Squalo asked the brat in the nicest voice he could manage. Considering that he had died before all of this shit had happened, he thought he had managed to keep his voice pretty level, but the brat still shuddered and curled in on himself. "Voi!" Squalo ranted, ridiculously happy that his sword arm was intact in this mental-sort-of-dreamscape-thing, (Squalo had met Mukuro and Byakuran so he considered that anything was possible at this point). "Don't curl up on yourself like that! Answer my damn question and look me in the eyes when you do!"

Green eyes glazed with fever, and too-pale cheeks flushed with sickness slowly came into view as the boy slowly lifted the messy black mop he called his hair and peeked up at Squalo. "I-I'm Harry." The boy in the far too big clothes whispered shyly, fiddling with the frayed ends of his overlarge shirt as he did so. The burning circle of sunlight they were standing in belied the boring patch of earth beneath them, neither of which made the boy seem any healthier than a skeleton. The darkness just outside the light set Squalo's teeth on edge, however.

Squalo grunted. "Great. Now-"

A cold chill swept through the mental-sort-of-dreamscape thing, but even as the whimper escaped Harry's mouth Squalo was already planted in front of him, sword drawn and grey eyes narrowed dangerously. Not a few seconds later the writhing darkness took the form of a man who was nearly as beautiful as Xanxus- Squalo tamped down and compartmentalized the fact that he was never going to see his Boss and lover again- only the red eyes of the…thing were entirely wrong. Squalo forced himself not to tense as the being smiled and began to spew out worthless promises of power- if only Squalo would stand aside and allow it access to the boy.

"Voi!" Squalo cut the thing off with a snarl as the brat whimpered and attached himself to Squalo's leg, small fingers curling into the fabric of Squalo's- thankfully pre-messy-death-battle- Varia uniform. "I don't know who the fuck you are or where the fuck you came from, but if you want the brat you'll have to get through me."

The thing's red eyes gleamed and once again darkness around the edge of the dreamscape-thing began to writhe as monsters from humanity's deepest fears began to take shape. The thing smirked cruelly, superiorly as its mouth stretched into something inhuman and it raised a hand- presumably to signal the attack.

"Brat can you hear me." Squalo muttered as he watched the army of monsters continue to multiply in the shadows that surrounded them.

The brat nodded against Squalo's leg.

"I'm going to drop my jacket onto you." The Varia SIC said quietly, not moving his lips. It was a trick that had served him well in the Varia, not allowing the enemy to read his lips had saved his life on several occasions. "Hide underneath it while I take care of this scum."

"Ok." The boy said quietly, and Squalo was impressed that the kid managed a decent whisper. Most brats his age had no idea what volume control was about.

Squalo dropped his jacket on the kid just as the army of nightmares attacked.

The army was fierce and vicious- truly a force to be reckoned with- but Superbi Squalo was the fucking Sword Emperor. Squalo's grey eyes stayed locked onto the inhuman thing as he elegantly cut through the horde of enemies that had been set against him. With all the grace of a dancer Squalo carved a bloody- black blood? Fucking weird.- path directly to the main monster. The fact that this thing dared to have red eyes- the light in Xanxus' eyes when he fought for the Family; the smug shine in them when he forced Squalo to stand still and take notice- made something deep within Squalo seethe with rage and in barely any time at all the Sword Emperor was bearing down on the thing that dared to have his lover's eyes. The thing attacked Squalo, trying to get inside his head and muck around with his thoughts, but Squalo was a battle genius- born and bred- and he focused single mindedly on ending the treacherous fiend.

Squalo pushed forward relentlessly, absently noting the sunlight elongating and brightening the closer he came to victory. The barren earth beneath him began to resemble more of a forest than a desert the further he pushed his enemy back. Finally the thing was cornered, its back against the wall and Squalo raised his sword one last time-

A boy in an orphanage. A strange letter. A school. Collecting followers. Fearing death, huddling under the bed in his dismal orphanage miles away from the world he belonged in as the bombs dropped all around him. Graduation. A Locket. Traveling. I am Lord Voldemort. Pain, fear, and death, so much death. A woman with fierce green eyes and an insurmountable will. Her body crumbling to the floor. Turning his weapon upon her son. Pain. Agony. Disassociation. Survivesurvivesurvive

-and drove it through his opponent without pause. Squalo slashed through the darkness until none of it remained, ignoring the pounding in his head as the thoughts- memories?- burrowed themselves into his mind. The Varia Quality swordsman snarled and kept himself on his feet through sheer force of will as the happenings of the past day threatened to overwhelm him.

Squalo refused to let that happen.

Slowly he managed to force his body to comply with his demands and he made his way back towards the brat, pleased to note that the black blood seemed to be evaporating under the force of the sunlight. Squalo eventually made it back to the brat, who was shaking under jacket that Squalo had dumped onto him. "Voi! Brat! The thing is gone, you can come out now."

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Harry Potter was having the weirdest dream ever.

It was also one of his best.

After being sick for the past several days and still being forced to do his chores, his Aunt had taken pity on him and sent him to the cupboard early- meaning before Uncle Vernon and Dudley got home- with a small thermos of soup and a full bottle of water. Harry had drank some of the soup and sipped at the water until he had fallen asleep.

When he had next become aware he was in that terrifying dream he always had but never remembered, the one where he was in a circle of sunlight that seemed dimmer every time he saw it with the creepy darkness encroaching at its edges. All of his nightmares- particularly one with the high, cruel laugh and the sickly green light- were in that darkness. Harry intrinsically knew if it ever touched him, it would consume him.

Yet this time, there was someone else there with him.

A man was there with him, and he had long hair. He was taller than anyone Harry had ever seen in real life and was wearing a uniform that Harry was sure was against the rules of Privet Drive. The man hadn't yelled at Harry, and had even demanded that Harry look at him instead of the floor! Then the man had dropped his coat on top of the boy and had gone off to fight the darkness. Harry had hidden his whole body underneath the coat, but instead of it feeling wrong or shameful- like Dudley's castoffs felt- the coat felt warm.

Safe.

Just like how Harry had always imagined that a real father would feel.

So Harry had curled his fingers and toes into the coat, greedily trying to soak up as much of the protection and comfort that it could give him. He'd never felt so protected before!

Then the man was back and announced that the thing- Harry's nightmares- were gone and that he could come out now. But Harry didn't want to leave the coat behind! It was the best thing he'd ever experienced! However, he also did not want to make the strange man angry with him, so Harry firmly forced himself to poke his head out from under the coat as he crawled up into a sitting position, but he kept the coat firmly wrapped around him. "Will it stay gone?" He asked shyly.

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Squalo quirked an eyebrow at the brat. "I diced it into a million pieces, so it is as gone as it is going to get."

The brat smiled brightly at him. "Thank you, mister!"

"Squalo, brat. S-q-u-a-l-o."

"Squalo." The brat repeated obediently. Dark hair shifted as the kid titled his head to the side curiously. "What's it mean?" Then a horrified look overcame his face and the brat shrunk in on himself. "Sorry." He whispered.

Squalo rolled his eyes and firmly compartmentalized everything else he was feeling. "Just because my name means shark doesn't mean I'm going to eat you."

The brat giggled. Squalo glanced around- before remembering his situation- and cracked a conspiring grin.

Then everything around them rumbled and the dreamscape-thing shattered.

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Squalo had long since trained his body to not need much sleep to function. However, seeing as how he was a spirit- or ghost, but that was a creepy-ass thought so he'd stick with the former term- it seemed that he required about the same amount of 'sleep' to recharge.

Which was good, because Squalo needed the time between him passing out in exhaustion after the brat had disappeared to the brat waking up for him to explore his new situation. Not to mention needing time to deal with his own emotions and the memories that he had witnessed from both the brat and the thing.

The plane Squalo seemed stuck in was the same pseudo-forest that he had landed in yesterday once the brat had reappeared. Squalo assumed that magicals were like Flame Actives in that they did not truly expire until after the last vestiges of their magic dissipated. Case in point- Lussuria had, on more than one occasion, revived Varia members who were technically dead, but their bodies still held traces of the Flames. You had to work quickly, and there was still the matter of fixing what had caused them to 'die' in the first place, but it was possible to snatch a Flame Active from Death's jaws if their injuries were treatable enough and their Flames were resilient.

As he wandered around the meta-physical plane of the brat's consciousness, Squalo tested to see how much control he had over his new situation. He didn't want to cause harm to the brat- as this body was Harry's and Squalo was just renting space at the moment- so he didn't push his limits far enough to cause the brat pain. He noted that the sunlight from yesterday was now an even golden glow, casting light into all areas of the spiritual plain, and looking much steadier, if a bit dimmer that it had previously. There were a worryingly number of cracks and scorch marks along the edges of the field he found himself standing in and the further from the center- where the brat had huddled under his coat the day before- the more barren the ground, until it faded into black-ish white sand at the edges.

As far as he could tell, he was basically like a back-seat driver. The area that had formerly been housing the thing had shifted to accommodate Squalo, so instead of Squalo's spiritual presence wearing down and eventually smothering the brat's own spiritual presence, Squalo existed around him.

The closest Squalo could come to an explanation involved a glass of water an ice cubes. While one would think that a to-the-brim-full glass of water with ice cubes would overflow once the ice cubes melted, that wasn't the case. As long as the glass was left undisturbed, the melted ice would actually take up less room than the frozen ice. This was due to the fact that water expanded as it froze, meaning when it thawed- or unfroze- it contracted, therefore not taking up as much room and not overflowing the glass.

Squalo could feel the condition the brat's body was in, but instead of feeling it in a first-person manner- as he had when he arrived in this situation- the connection he held to the body was more of a second-person sort of thing. So instead of feeling miserable and sick kid like the brat felt, Squalo just felt irritated.

The Varia Rain had also found out, purely by accident, that he could hear the brat's conscious thoughts and subconscious mutterings if he concentrated or stood in certain points of the forest. Granted the brat was asleep right now, so there weren't really many of them and he could easily tune them out, but Squalo had no idea how long he had before the brat decided to wake up.

As an Esper, Mammon was a damn scary Mist, and since the tiny miser was on the Varia's payroll, the midget had ensured that all of the Officers had a sturdy grip on their own minds to prevent them from being taken advantage of by the likes of Mukuro Rokudo or copycats. Accordingly Squalo took a deep breath a set to work. "Sorry, brat." He muttered as he concentrated on his task, his long hair stirring as the breeze picked up as he forced the brat's slumbering mind to accept his will. "This is probably going to feel really fucking strange."

Before him, according to his iron will and mental focus, a replica of Varia HQ began to take shape. Squalo's brows furrowed and the wind picked up as he concentrated on every detail of the place.

The Headquarters was an old cathedral that had once belonged to the Church, but was taken by the Vongola after Napoleon declared war on neutral Venice and tried to take it in order to appease the Austrians. The Vongola, by that time, had already burrowed deeply into Tuscany, and the Grand Duke Leopold- Lampo's uncle- introduced many reforms that greatly benefitted the people, though they were ravaged by sickness and famine during much of his reign. Back to the point, Venice was spared the invasion of Napoleon during 1797, but when Primo disbanded the Vongola military forces, Venice was once again at the mercy of the invaders.

Once Italy was unified and the Vongola renewed their grip on things, the old cathedral was given to Ricardo's eldest son- who was far from comfortable in front of crowds as he had a speech impairment, but was excellent in the shadows- who repurposed the building as a secondary fort for the Vongola. Eventually, the eclectic assortment of people who followed the eldest son were referred to as the 'Vicocaro', and eventually this nickname evolved into 'Varia', and stuck. It was towards the end of Secondo's reign that the Varia were formalized as a sub-Famiglia, but to maintain their secrecy and anonymity the Varia operated quasi-independently from the Vongola. Until Vongola Nono, however, the Boss of the Varia had never been acknowledged to the wider Mafia world, so most thought the Varia were a new organization.

Squalo shook off the historical tangent and instead focused harder on his construction of Varia Headquarters. From the way the Storm division always smelled faintly of Bel's crappy tea and burning stone, to the way Lussuria's division was an explosion of color that hurt his eyes some days. Lightning Division was essentially one giant shrine to Xanxus with more lightning-themed paraphernalia than Squalo ever wanted to know existed, but it also held most of the Varia's tech, due to Levi's division being responsible for keeping their tech from being sabotaged. Cloud division's doors were Lightning-Flame reinforced, and the division itself was bordered by the Rain's- Squalo's division. Mammon's division were in the furthest corner, far away from everyone else, as Mists had a tendency to push buttons, and it was always a good idea to have the training areas and Infirmary between them and the rest of the Varia.

Squalo grunted as he forced the grounds to materialize as well, as this endeavor was taking quite the amount of focus. It's probably because the brat is so young. Squalo thought as he slowly withdrew his will and made sure that his construct wasn't going anywhere. Shit. Squalo thought as he checked on the brat's physical condition. He's got a bloody nose and one hell of a headache.

Then the brat's eyes fluttered open just as the Aunt- Squalo knew from the brat's memories- pounded on the door to the cupboard.

"Up! Up!" She snapped irritably, the sound ringing through the brat's mind unpleasantly.

Squalo felt the boy try to move to comply, and stepped in.

"Let me take care of this, brat."

The boy's spiritual form appeared before Squalo and the Varia Rain cursed as he took in the kid's condition visually. "W-what?" The boy croaked out in confused apprehension, dark hair falling over his bright eyes as he tried to take in his surroundings. "What's going-"

Squalo knelt down in front of the brat and gently grasped him by the shoulders. "I'll explain everything after you get some rest."

The pounding came again and this time the door opened.

"Fall asleep, brat, I'll take care of this."

The boy nodded slowly and passed out. Squalo quickly conjured up a Varia underling to take the brat to one of the empty rooms in the Rain division. He would have preferred to think up Diluvio, his SIC, but he did not have the time and he was wary of doing any more major rearranging to the brat's mental landscape at the moment.

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The sensation of being in the driver's seat was disorienting, but Squalo managed. The full impact of how sick and how much of a headache the brat had was rather unpleasant, but Squalo's mind quickly sorted through those feelings and suppressed them. Fortunately, he was right in his theory that since Flames were of the soul, he could use his Rain Flames as long as he was in control. Squalo blinked a few times and noted that the harridan was screeching and reaching for him, but he was more than ready to deal with her.

Bright blue Flames sprang to life, their control a little wonky due to the young age of the body he was in, but they answered his call easily enough. He pushed as much of them out as he could without worsening the boy's condition, thankful that civilians could not see Flames unless their minds were able to comprehend the sight.

This woman, her husband, and their brat did not fall into that category. Squalo was a bit apprehensive that she would make the connection to 'magic', but was relieved when her eyes glazed over and she walked away without protest. Since the door was open and light was spilling in, Squalo could see the dismal surroundings that his new charge was living in and his temper spiked.

I'm getting him out of this damn cupboard, as soon as he is in a better physical condition. Squalo vowed, gingerly venturing out of the cupboard and up the stairs where the bathroom was located, keeping a steady stream of Tranquility pouring out as he did so.

Once he had finished his- Harry's body's, whatever- bathroom break, he had raided the medicine cabinet- child's locks- pshaw!- before he went into the cousin's room and re-appropriated a couple of blankets and a pillow- one without drool. Fortunately, the cousin also had a small box fan that Squalo happily swiped- the air in the cupboard was stifling- and the man-in-charge made his way back down the stairs and stashed the items quickly. Squalo nipped into the kitchen and refilled the bottle of water and soup containers, grabbing a thing of crackers and some bread, which he wrapped in a napkin, as he did so. He also grabbed a butter knife, as he had noted the locks on the outside of the cupboard door. It took some creative threading, but he got the fan plugged in and positioned, the blankets rearranged before the body he was borrowing became too sluggish for him to continue.

I was afraid of that. Squalo thought grimly as he stepped outside of the cupboard and pumped Tranquility into the walls. Painted wood wasn't exactly the best place to store Flames, as they dissipated rather quickly, but Squalo's Flame Capacity and Flame Purity should keep anyone away from the cupboard for at least a few days. While Tranquility couldn't misdirect, like Mist Flames could, they could pervade a person's thoughts and make an area seem entirely uninteresting or unremarkable, inviting the mind to move on to the next task on the person's mental to-do instead of concentrating on the original task.

The boy's arms were trembling and his baby legs were threatening to give out by the time Squalo closed the cupboard door and laid down. No matter how advanced my pain tolerance and mind are, his body is only that of a five year old. Squalo thought as he closed his eyes and experienced another wave of disorientation as he stepped back and allowed the boy control of his body.

The Varia Rain made his way through the Varia HQ he had constructed, pleased to see that he had achieved the level of detail he had wanted. There wasn't anyone running around, so that made things a little strange, as the underling he had thought up had dissipated after accomplishing his task, but it was nice to be somewhere familiar after the crazy happenings of the past few hours. Squalo was pleased to see the boy laying in the room he had wanted him in and the Varia Rain set about making the brat comfortable before he allowed himself to slump in a nearby armchair in exhaustion.

I have to figure out how to explain all this shit to a five year old. Squalo mentally lamented. And I need to go through the thing's memories and see just what the fuck it was doing inside this brat's head!

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