The Boy Next Door
Part II
New Summary: Fifteen months after the events of Part I finds Harry Potter post-war. While victorious, Harry can't seem to get things back to normal and he soon becomes obsessed with confronting Pyro. Upon meeting him again, things don't go as expected, at least not how Harry consciously expected things to turn out. Harry soon finds himself in the middle of a mutant conflict and, for once, his role as the Chosen One, even a wizard, is not to blame.
Pairing: Slash. Harry/Pyro
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the X-Men. J.K. Rowling, Marvel, and others have that honor.
Spoilers: HP 1-6. AU for summer of HP7. X1-3, First Class.
Warnings: Slash (not too explicit). Strong Language. Adult Concepts. Sexual Content. Violence/Abuse.
A.N. Thank you for all the great reviews! Here's a new chapter. It's rather short but packed with stuff.
Chapter 14: Found Out
"Hey," Harry said as he came through the door, grocery bag in hand. John watched him from where he was drinking coffee at the kitchen counter. "Are you sure you should be drinking coffee?" he asked, placing the bag down and not looking at him as he unpacked.
"What's it going to do to me? Burn a whole through my stitches?" John responded a little groggily even to his own ears. Harry handed him a bottle of pills. John glanced at them. "These are prescription strength," he commented. He eyed Harry. "How you get 'em?"
"Pharmacy," Harry told him. He looked a little shifty. "I didn't steal them," he insisted. "I paid for them."
"You stole drugs then left money for them in the cash register," John said, eyebrows rising.
"More or less," Harry shrugged.
"Well, you are the seasoned criminal, aren't you," John teased. "More or less." After popping a few of the pills, he waited but Harry only continued to unpack the last of what was in the bag. "This is where you tell me about robbing banks."
Harry paused. "Last year," he said slowly. "I mean it wasn't really stealing from anyone because it was stolen property anyway. And breaking in wasn't really the hard part. Getting out was," he rambled.
John stared for a moment. Part of him was shocked and part of him wasn't surprised. Harry had a story, he knew that. And while he hadn't been expecting crime, he hadn't been expecting puppies and kittens either. Then again, there seemed to be a pattern here. It was never really stealing, apparently. "Almost got caught?"
Harry ran his hand through his hair, looking sheepish. "Only a little bit. Kind of destroyed the place getting out."
"Why?" John asked, studying him.
"Well, it wasn't completely intentional but we were surrounded and—"
"No, I mean why did you break in? What was it?" John's coffee was getting cold but he knew this was important. The big bad past Harry pretended only boiled down to last summer's events with Vernon Dursley. John knew better.
Harry looked at him for a few moments. This was where he was figuring out how to lie to John. "The vault," Harry cleared his throat. "It belonged to a follower, eh of sorts, of…Listen, I can't tell you everything," he interrupted himself in frustration.
"Why not?" John challenged. "I've told you quite a bit."
"Not everything," Harry glared. "And don't pretend you have. The way I see it, we're pretty even right now. You already knew a bunch of stuff about me. I didn't know anything."
"I'm pretty sure it's not supposed to be a contest," John commented, remembering a conversation he once had with Bobby over a break-up. "Yep, I'm pretty sure a relatively well-balanced on the mental scale kind of guy once told me that with relationships no one wins or loses: you both do."
"Relationships, huh?" Harry said, a little quietly. "Is that what this is?" He looked up at John with those expressive green eyes. They were sad most of the time, still were even now.
"Well, clearly it's not just sex," John said a little awkwardly. There were a lot of different ways he could say that, but ways a lot more embarrassing than that.
Harry nodded slowly, as if more to himself. "I can't tell you everything," he repeated, slowly, eying John as if begging for him to understand. "I can't even tell you why. Something's holding me back and it's not any one single thing. I can tell you some things, though." He breathed out, looking away from John. "The short, edited version? The night my parents were killed, the man that killed him—Tom Riddle—well, he meant to kill me too. He ran into some complications, I guess you can say. Tom Riddle wasn't just any murderer, either. He had followers. For a while, it looked like he was dead or gone and those followers of his that weren't arrested laid low. Well, mostly." Harry finally looked up at John. "The thing was, he wasn't gone, at least not permanently. When he returned, he wanted me dead. He wanted a lot of things but me dead was a top priority. I represented his failure. A weakness that the rest of the world could see. I didn't have much of a choice but to get involved. Help take him down. Even if I did have a choice…" Harry said all this very quickly, hesitating here and there. He met John's eyes. "He killed my parents. Left me in my uncle's home. And he kept taking stuff from me, from a lot of people. I couldn't just stand back. That bank-it was in his hands and there was something in there he didn't want anyone to know about. So we broke in and we took it."
John could only stare for a few moments. He had known that Harry's parents were murdered. Harry told him that last summer. What he hadn't realized was Harry's involvement in the whole thing. He couldn't see the cops letting a teenage kid help out either. So Harry was involved in something, something big. Something that he ran all the way to America to get away from.
"What happened to Tom Riddle?" John asked, realizing Harry had never said. "Are you running from him?"
"He's gone," Harry said, shaking off the question. "Dead this time."
"Did you do it? Kill him?" John asked slowly, studying Harry carefully.
"More or less."
"Well, fuck," John commented. "That's some shit you're running from then. They try to arrest you for it?"
Harry snorted. "No, they gave me a fucking medal for it. When all is said and done, the ones hiding and pissing their pants give out medals and act like they were the ones backing you the whole time."
John was about to comment on that when his phone rang. It cut sharply through the air. "Where is…" He listened for it.
"You dropped it near the bathroom when you came in," Harry said, going to retrieve it and handing it to John.
John flipped it open. He pressed the '6' twice and heard the responding beeps. "Hello," he said, watching Harry make his way to the couch, giving him space.
But John followed, sitting next to him on the couch. Harry had told him a lot. John trusted him and he didn't know how to say it.
"Good, you're alive," Mystique responded.
"You don't sound nearly happy enough, Stique," John commented. "I expect tears of joy from at least you."
"I'm sure your friend Avalanche will give you a few tears. He was awfully worried about you. Must be because he hasn't gotten into your pants yet."
"Not my type," John wrinkled his nose. "Was there something you wanted besides making sure I'm alive."
"Magneto wants to see you."
"Joy," John breathed out. He hadn't seen the man for a few months. He didn't exactly feel like seeing him now. "I'll be over in twenty."
Mystique didn't respond, only hung up.
"Gotta go," John told Harry.
"So I hear," Harry said. It was easy to see the worry now. "Are you sure you're up to it? Should they really be sending you anywhere with a hole in your side anyway?"
"Right now he just wants to see me," John told him, looking around for his coat.
"I had to get rid of your jacket," Harry said, getting up. "It was drenched in blood. Take one of mine." It wasn't much of a selection. Harry owned only two coats. John grabbed the one he had been wearing that morning. It still smelled like Harry.
"Don't die, okay?" Harry said very quickly as John walked out the door.
"Haven't yet, have I?" John offered him a cocky smirk.
"It usually only takes once," Harry rolled his eyes. Clearly, he was still worried. John moved back from the door. He placed a hand on the back of Harry's head and pulled him in. He gave him a soft, rather chaste kiss.
"I'm not gonna die any time soon," John promised him quietly, but Harry didn't look impressed.
PAGE BREAK
As soon as Harry was sure John was gone, he pulled out his phone. He hesitated for only a moment, then dialed the number.
"Bobby Drake."
"Hey, it's me," Harry said with a sigh. "They called him in. I don't know what for." Bobby didn't say anything. That wasn't the information he was necessarily waiting for. "He took the call right in front of me. I mean, I gave him his space like I usually did and he followed. This might work." Even to his own ears, he didn't sound happy about it.
"Harry, that's a good thing," Bobby told him. "It means he trusts you."
"Yeah," Harry responded roughly. "Just in time for me to betray him."
"You're not betraying him."
"If you know him as well as you claim to, you should know he's not going to see it like that," Harry said, almost calmly. "I'm going to lose him. That's okay I guess. For his own good or something like that, right?"
Bobby didn't say anything for a moment. Then: "Listen, Harry. If you ever just need to talk, call me. I'm…you have no idea how grateful I am for your help. I just want my best friend back."
"You need to be realistic," Harry informed him. "This might not end the way you want it, too. You may not get him back. The world's not split into Brotherhood and X-Men."
"Maybe not, but we can always hope."
"That's ridiculous," Harry said with a sigh. "Hoping will only leave you disappointed."
"No wonder the two of you found each other. You both have the same sunny disposition."
Harry couldn't help a small smile. Bobby Drake really wasn't that bad.
PAGE BREAK
John entered without knocking. "You wanted to see me?" he asked as his eyes landed on Magneto who sat behind his large, somewhat ridiculous, iron desk.
"Yes, Pyro, come in," Magneto's eyes followed him to the seat. John reclined, pulling out his lighter. Magneto eyed it distastefully. "How are you after last night's botched mission?"
"Don't get on me about that," John said. "The mission, the planning—or lack thereof—was all Mystique."
"How charming of you to so readily pass the blame," Magneto commented.
"The truth's the truth," John shrugged.
"Clearly," Magneto eyed him. "You, however, have not answered the question."
"A little shot," John informed him. "But I'm stitched up and have plenty of drugs." He pulled the bottle out of his jacket and shook it pointedly. "Now what do you want?"
"Ever to the point," Magneto offered him a smile. John only watched. Magneto and he did not see each other much lately, a pattern he would rather continue. "I have a mission for you, my boy. Extended cover."
"Make Mystique do it," John replied automatically. "That's her thing."
"I want you to do it."
"Well, the answer is no," John said just as quickly. "I don't want to do extended cover. And I'm not gonna."
Magneto studied him carefully. "I hope this doesn't have anything to do with where you've been disappearing off to so often."
"I'm not disappearing," John said, careful not to give anything away. His body already got a little tenser, worried that Magneto knew. "I've always answered my calls. Besides it's not any of your business if I go out and blow off some steam."
"Hmm," Magneto commented lightly. "You see I believe it is my business. Last time we let you blow off some steam, as you put it, you ruined a mission and nearly got us all caught."
"I didn't ruin any mission," John sneered. "We found the mutant—"
"No thanks to you."
John glared. "I did as told, didn't I? You wanted me to get close, I got close. Did I almost blow our cover? Yeah, once in how many missions. But it's not like we almost got lynched. We got out of England not only unharmed but unpursued. So back off."
"Perhaps I'm willing to give you a bit of leash," Magneto told him.
"I'm not a dog," John snapped.
Magneto offered a trademark patronizing look. "As I was saying, I may be willing, but Mystique certainly isn't."
John froze. "Where's Mystique?"
Magneto smiled and it chilled John. "Investigating."
PAGE BREAK
John wasn't gone long when there was a knock on the door.
"One moment," Harry called, shoving the newspaper away. He was never going to read what Hermione wanted him to see. He opened the door to see John standing there. Harry looked at him oddly as John just looked at him expressionlessly. "You just left," he said. "And where are your keys?"
"Can't find them," John shrugged. "You gonna let me in?"
Harry stood aside. He watched John carefully as he came in. Something was off. Not so much in his motions, but something bigger. "Didn't Magneto want to see you?" Harry asked.
John's eyebrows rose. "Awfully curious, aren't you?" He offered a smirk. "I didn't get far. Figured he could wait. I have better things to do."
John pulled Harry into him and kissed him. Harry returned the kiss for a moment but even this felt wrong. He let his hands wander, pushing against John's injured side. Nothing.
Harry pushed John roughly away. "You're not John," Harry said, voice cold.
'John' began to laugh and then he began to shift. Soon he was a blue woman with red hair. Mystique. He had never seen her in her true form.
"Hello, Harry. You remember me?" she asked, grin wide across her face.
"Never had the pleasure of truly meeting you," Harry commented, crossing his arms across his chest. "What do you want?"
Her eyes traveled across the room then landed on the empty coffee cup on the counter. "Me? I was just investigating. Looking into where our little Pyro was getting off to. I figured it would lead me to who was getting him off, really. That's Pyro, for us." She shook her head mockingly. "I certainly didn't expect you, Harry." Though her mouth was smiling, her eyes were cold. "Maybe I should've. Again Pyro's straying comes down to you."
Harry watched her, careful to keep significant distance between them. She was only dangerous if she got close. He uncrossed his arms, knowing he might need his wand if she chose to attack. He wouldn't best her hand to hand.
"John makes his own choices," Harry said. "I don't lead him astray. I don't involve myself."
"You knew he was off to see Magneto," Mystique pointed out.
"That's all I ever know," Harry told her. "I don't want to know and he doesn't want to tell me."
"Aw," her face scrunched up in mock sympathy. "I'm sure that's not true. I'm sure that's all he really wants to do, is tell you. He's breaking all the rules, you see. All his rules."
Harry didn't say anything, only watched her as she walked around the room, taking things in. Her eyes came back to him. "It's funny," she commented, her head tilting to the side. "You don't seem to fear me."
It was true. Harry had seen true evil. Besides, he knew he could take her if it came down to it. He really hoped it didn't. John didn't even know he was a wizard. He didn't need the Brotherhood knowing.
So Harry shrugged. "To fear you, I have to fear whatever you can do to me. I don't."
"How interesting," Mystique said, truly seeming to become more interested. She took a step closer to him, eyes piercing his. He took a cautionary step back. "You're very cautious for someone who claims not to fear me."
Harry kept her gaze, unimpressed. He was on edge, though, senses on high alert, ready to fight. It had been a long time. Still, he was ready. "Doesn't mean I won't go down without a fight," Harry told her, trying to sound nonchalant. "So you found us out. What do you want?"
"To understand," Mystique said curiously. "Maybe it's the sex. I thought I'd try it for myself but you figured me out. Very good, by the way. You must know Pyro very well."
"I have good instincts," he replied. "Plus, I'd assume most people who were recently shot will at least flinch when someone touches the wound. Very messy of you."
"I forgot about the gunshot," Mystique said, for some strange reason sounding pleased. "That is very good. Quick thinking. Still you were already suspicious…" She grinned. "Pyro's fascination with you may not be completely unfounded. Unusual for a human aren't you?"
"Not so unusual," Harry told her. The only plan he had right now was to keep talking. He didn't want to attack. No reason to reveal what he was if he didn't need to. What else could he do?
Mystique was still grinning. "Unusual enough. Only one other boy ever held Pyro's attention like you do." Harry couldn't help but react. He was a little confused, a little interested and unable to cover both emotions. Mystique looked as if she found her prey. "Yes, Bobby Drake—Iceman. Pyro's former best friend. Very close, I've heard. Poor boy was left broken hearted. Pyro I mean."
"I didn't know John knew Iceman," Harry said, recovering on the outside. Inwardly, hurt and confusion boiled up. Bobby Drake and John? Is that what Bobby had meant by wanting John back? Had Harry been played?
"So he really doesn't tell you everything," Mystique said, extremely pleased with herself now. She approached Harry, arm reaching for him. Harry's hand had wandered towards his wand, ready to attack, but Mystique only stroked his face. "Did he tell you that you were the only one? Did he—"
But Mystique was interrupted by the door flying open. Harry saw a flare of light and Mystique was roughly pulled away from him. John was there, eyes blazing, face screwed up in fury and flame encompassing his hand. Mystique laughed as John pushed her across the room.
"Get the fuck away from him," John growled.
"We were just talking," Mystique chuckled. She looked past John to him. "Weren't we Harry?"
"Leave," John snapped. "This is none of your business." Harry was transfixed. He didn't move. Just watched what was going on in front of him.
"It's all my business, Pyro," Mystique said, eyes reaching new intensities as she focused on him. "You are and will always be Brotherhood business."
"My loyalties haven't changed," John sneered. "I'm still working for the mission. Magneto doesn't care what I do on my free time. Why should you?"
"Because he doesn't know you as well as I do," Mystique snapped. Harry was amazed by the amount of anger in her voice. This was personal for her. "I thought we were the same, you and I. You were my brother in arms. A traitor to Charles' cause like me. But no. You're weak. Still his student. Taking his call to love humans a little literally aren't you?"
"Get out of here, Mystique," John said, voice growing quiet but not losing its intensity. He truly was something to behold. Powerful in his anger. "We're not brothers in arms. You don't trust me. I don't trust you. And if you ever come within seeing range of Harry again, I will not hesitate to kill you."
"You choose him over us?" Mystique asked, taking a step towards John, glare getting stronger. Her voice, however, seemed incredulous.
"No," John said. "I don't have to choose."
Mystique laughed. It was harsh, bitter. "We all have to choose. I did. Charles and Erik, they made me." She nodded towards Harry. "Your boy will too one day."
"No," John replied slowly. "He won't." Harry felt his stomach tie itself in knots. He never knew he could feel so guilty.
"Never figured you for a fool so easily blinded by love," Mystique said, anger going out of her. She seemed almost shocked. "I'll leave him alone. We'll see just how well you know him, won't we?" And she left, leaving the door open behind her.
John watched her leave, waiting for a few moments before very suddenly turning towards Harry. "Did she hurt you?" he asked, as he quickly began checking Harry over.
Harry shook him off. "I'm fine. She was right. We were just talking."
"About what?" John sounded incredulous.
"She was surprised to see me," Harry shrugged. "Then I think she was thrown off by the fact that she didn't scare me."
"She used to scare the fuck out of me," John breathed out in a laugh, his eyes evaluating Harry. "Fuck, Harry, you're something else."
"I'm really not," Harry said, letting John pull him towards him so that their foreheads were leaning against each other's. Harry closed his eyes, feeling the guilt engulf him for a moment. "I'm really, really not."