"A daughter."

Harley and Harry looked at each other nervously before refocusing in the heavily scowling Joker. They had arrived at the Leaky Cauldron a few days ago and had already done Harry's shopping. During that time, Joker had gotten more and more suspicious of Harry and Harley's secretive behavior and eventually sat them down, demanding to know what they were whispering about.

"I have a daughter?" Joker asked emotionlessly.

Harley nodded mutely. All color had left her face earlier as she stared up at her beloved 'Mr. J' with terrified eyes. With good reason.

"AND YOU DIDN'T FUCKING TELL ME I HAD A DAUGHTER?!"

"I was worried!" Harley squeaked.
"You always said you didn't like little kids a-and-…"

"You thought I'd do something to my own?! I RAISED HARRY DID'T I?!"

"Y-you did! B-but-…"

"AND YOU DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING EITHER EVEN THOUGH YOU KNEW!"

Harry jumped in fear and he stared at his father with wide eyes.

"I'm so sorry-!" he started.

He should have expected the slap in the face, but somehow it still caught him off guard.

"Puddin'- AH!" Harley shouted before she too was struck.

"DON'T EVER KEEP SECRETS FROM ME AGAIN!" Joker bellowed enraged.

Harry rubbed his cheek and nodded quickly while silently thanking whatever deity was out there that the room was sound proof. He could already imagine the whole hassle that would come with the wizarding world finding out about his dad's true nature. Or worse, his own.

"Never again," he promised hurried.

Joker took a deep, calming breath and grinned at him. When he reached out, Harry had to keep himself from flinching away, but this time, his father didn't hurt him. instead, he ruffled Harry's hair almost playfully.

"What did you say you named our baby girl, Harl?" he asked casually.
"Hailey, right? Heh! Harley, Harry and Hailey. Nice collection of Quinns I'm getting huh?"

Harry couldn't help but scowl at that comment and a horrifying thought struck him suddenly.

"When she's older, will Hailey take my place?" he asked softly, looking at his parents with a sad expression.

"Sure, but that's still a long ways away. 8 to 10 years, probably," Joker shrugged.

Harry sagged in his seat. His lip trembled and tears started beading in the corners of his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Harley gasped when she saw and threw herself onto her son, catching him in a crushing hug.

"Oh no, hun! We won't replace our baby with our other baby!" she cried out.
"We can love ya both just as much! Just 'cause Hailey's born don't mean we won't care about ya anymore! Right puddin'?"

"I was talking about the Child's Play persona," Joker shrugged.

Harry's eyes widened in horror and he wrestled out of his mother's arms so he could go stand defiantly in front of Joker. He was glaring hatefully, but the tears in his eyes wade it hard to take him serious at the moment.

"You're going to give away my secret identity to her?!" he shouted.
"I won't let you! It's mine, I made him! I made Child's Play!"

"Shut up and calm down, kid," Joker growled, glaring right back at the boy.

"NO! If you're going to hurt me, go ahead!" Harry cried.
"We're in my world now! You hurt me, and the whole Wizarding World will hate you more than they hate Voldemort! And Dick and Bruce already thinks that you're abusing me, so if I show up with one more unexplained bruise, he's going to call the cops!"

Harley gasped in horror, but stayed where she was as Joker pulled out his wand.

"Crucio!"

Harry dropped on the ground, screaming and writhing in agony under his dad's curse. It felt as if every nerve in his body was on fire. It was like being doused in a vat of acid while every bone in his body was being broken and at the same time, someone cut him up with a rusted blade. It was the worst kind of agony he had ever felt in his life.

When Joker stopped the curse, Harry was left lying, shivering and trembling in his tears, spit and snot until Harley rushed to his side and lifted his head on her lap. Harry curled into himself with a pathetic whimper. His dad had wanted to teach him the Unforgivables soon, but Harry hadn't really thought he'd be on this side of one. He hadn't thought the Torture Curse was so potent either.

"You bastard!" Harley hissed angrily at Joker.

"Shut up, Harley!" the clown in disguise growled back.
"You stay the fuck out of this or you're next!"

That shut Harley up immediately, but she still pulled Harry further on her lap in an attempt to protect him. Joker sighed and kneeled down next to them. He pulled Harry up by his hair so the boy would look at him, bloodshot eyes and red-faced.

"Calmed down again, kid?" Joker asked calmly.

Harry whimpered and nodded his head as best he could while still in the Joker's grip.

"Good. Now you might actually listen," the clown said.
"When Hailey is old enough, she'll take over as Child's Play, because you're going to grow out of it. When you're older, I'll have taught you everything I know, and then it's your turn to spread your wings and fly out by yourself! Be your own criminal! You can still work for me. Hell you will still work for me, but as an assassin instead of my sidekick. Got it?"

Harry nodded again, making Joker scowl.

"Use words, kid," the man scolded.

"Yes, dad," Harry croaked hoarsely.

"There's a good boy."

. . . . .

His muscles still ached from the torture curse, even thought it was already the next morning. To be completely honest, Harry had barely slept at all, dreaming weird things about a crying woman and green light. The same one he hadn't had since he was six and it pissed him off royally. He knew what it was about for fuck's sake! So what his birth mom was killed in front of him! A lot of people had died while he watched them! Lily Potter was nothing special.

"What can I get ye, kid?" Tom the barman asked, grinning his toothless grin.

"Coffee," Harry muttered, because he couldn't order alcohol at age 12.

The man still scowled at him, even as he went to grab a cup.

"Aren't ye a bit young fer caffeine?" he asked.

"Not when I'm this tired I'm not," Harry sneered.

The man just frowned as he started brewing a cup of coffee for Harry. The young teen meanwhile eyed the rather large bottle of expensive Firewhiskey on the shelve and looked around himself. No one seemed to be paying attention, nor was the barman, as he was busy with the coffee. Harry pulled out his wand and cast a whispered notice-me-not charm in the bottle.

Tom turned back towards him and smiled crookedly. Harry quickly slid his wand in his sleeve and grinned back while focusing on willing the bottle of strong alcohol to start floating. He was good at making things fly, had been since he was six or seven years old and he had practiced it to perfection.

"Thanks!" he said, overly cheerful as he took the coffee cup and hopped off the barstool.

Smirking, he started walking back to his room, the bottle of Firewhiskey sneakily floating behind him. Once he was in the empty hall leading to the rooms, he stopped and waiting for the booze to catch up before he grabbed it and poured some in his coffee. Some took their coffee with milk or sugar, he liked it best Irish, preferably with the bite of dragon fire to it.

He took a sip and hummed in pleasure at the burn of both the heat of the freshly made cup and of the strong alcohol. Just the way he liked it. Pleased with himself, he started walking again and opened the door to the room he shared with his parents.

"YES, Deeper Puddin'!" Harley wailed as soon as the door opened.

Harry's eyes widened and he quickly shut the door again. For a few seconds, he just stood in front of the door, staring horrified at the wood before he turned his eyes to the bottle in his hand and frowned contemplatively.

"Forget the fucking coffee, I'm drinking you straight," he muttered before taking a swig.

Slowly, Harry walked out of the Leaky Cauldron to creepily watch people in a dark corner in the busy shopping street. He wore a long black cloak and had the hood pulled over his face, hiding his identity. Malinda was lazing on his shoulders while he nursed his stolen bottle in hand, occasionally taking a swig.

In his other hand, he held his wand, the illegal one because people sometimes tended to recognize you by just the wand. He used it to hurl stinging hexes and leg-locker curses at passerby's. Some people got angry at him for it, but the way Malinda reared up and hissed threateningly at anyone daring to come near had them all retreat again very fast. It was very amusing.

*Hatchling should be more careful,* the snake warned.
*Not all wizards will turn tail because of me.*

*You say that as if I can't handle them,* Harry chuckled.

"Quinn!"

Frowning, Harry took a last gulp from his bottle as he pocketed his wand and looked over while Draco approached him. The blonde had a deep scowl marring his face. Harry grinned and waved at him.

"Draco my friend, my brother in arms!" he exclaimed.
"How did you recognize me even when I was so cleverly disguised?"

"The bloody snake," Draco muttered, eyeing Malinda warily.
"And I know only one person that can speak Parsel- I-is that Firewhiskey?"

Harry took off his hood and drank from the bottle again before offering it to Draco.

"Sure is! Want some?" he giggled.

Draco pulled up his nose and shook his head.

"Alright. More for me," Harry shrugged.
"This is good stuff though. Strongest brand of Firewhiskey that's legal in Britain. They use actual Dragon Blood in the mix."

Draco narrowed his eyes at him before looking around the two of them, as if looking for someone. When he couldn't find what he found, he looked back at Harry.

"Are you buying your books now too?" he asked.

"Nah. I bought them a couple days ago with my parents," Harry shrugged before taking a large gulp.
"But they're getting freaky in the Leaky Cauldron, and since all three of us are sharing one room…"

Draco shuddered in horror and gave Harry a sympathetic look.

"I'm sure father won't mind if you spend the day with us instead," he muttered.
"But would you mind not… you know… bring that bottle? It would give the wrong impression."

"Don't you mean the right impression?" Harry teased chuckled.

Still, he pocketed the bottle and held the large inside pocket open to let Malinda crawl in as well.

"The right impression would in this case be the wrong impression," Draco snorted.

"Ah? And would the wrong impression then be the right impression?" Harry asked.

"Yes it would."

Mr. Malfoy was cold but kind, though it was obvious he didn't particularly like Harry. Not that Harry cared about things like that. He talked cheerfully to Draco and clung to Lucius, acting like an adoring child much to the man's annoyance. They went towards Flourish and Blotts, where a long line was already waiting to get in. The reason for this was proclaimed by a large banner stretched across the upper windows:

GILDEROY LOCKHART

will be signing copies of his autobiography

MAGICAL ME

today 12:30 p.m. to 4:30 p.m.

"Hey! That's the guy that wrote most of the books on our list!" Harry exclaimed excitedly.

He'd read some parts of the books before falling asleep. And after that, his dad had read them 'to get a good laugh out of it' which he could understand of course. The guy was a fucking joke. Harry liked jokes, usually, but this was a bad one. And bad jokes were the most terrible crime in his eyes.

"Lockhart is famous, especially by witches," Draco sniffed.

"Really? Famous like Mr. Malfoy?" Harry asked innocently, batting his eyes at the man to whose arm he was clinging.

Lucius sneered and rolled his eyes before walking into the crowd with Harry and Draco following. A harassed-looking wizard stood at the door.

"Calmly, please, ladies… Don't push, there… mind the books, now…"

Harry and the Malfoys squeezed inside. A long line wound right to the back of the shop, where Gilderoy Lockhart was signing his books. Harry was skipping happily next to a very disgruntled looking Draco. Gilderoy Lockhart came slowly into view, seated at a table surrounded by large pictures of his own face, all winking and flashing dazzlingly white teeth at the crowd. The real Lockhart was wearing robes of forget-me-not blue that exactly matched his eyes; his pointed wizard's hat was set at a jaunty angle on his wavy hair. A short, irritable-looking man was dancing around taking photographs with a large black camera that emitted puffs of purple smoke with every blinding flash.

"Out of the way, there," he snarled at the two of them, moving back to get a better shot.
"This is for the Daily Prophet-"

"Big deal," Draco growled, rubbing his foot where the photographer had stepped on it.

Gilderoy Lockhart heard him. He looked up. He saw Draco, and then he saw Harry.

"It can't be Harry Potter?" he shouted, jumping to his feet.

The crowd parted, whispering excitedly. Lockhart dived forward, seized Harry's arm, and pulled him to the front. The crowd burst into applause.

"Technically, my name is Hadrian Quinzel, but since everyone seems to adore me like they should, I'll let it slide this once," Harry said haughtily.

He felt Lockhart falter next to him, but he soon got over it and laughed jovially.

"Nice big smile, Harry," Lockhart said, through his own gleaming teeth.
"Together, you and I are worth the front page."

"I hope you can pay for that though!" Harry laughed, winking at the photographer.

The man stopped taking pictures, and the smoke that had been growing around the Weasley family started to clear up again. Huh… Harry hadn't even noticed them standing there…

"What do you mean?" the photographer asked.

"A good businessman doesn't do anything for free!" Harry said grinning.
"You want a picture of me, you pay up! But I like you, so I'll give you a discount. 20 Galleons."

For a moment, the photographer and Lockhart were completely silent before the famous moron started chuckling nervously.

"Looks like our friend here is a bit of a joker!" he teased.

Harry grinned wolfishly at that.

"And you would know all about Jokes, wouldn't you?" he asked in a whisper
"After all, you're one yourself. And a bad one at that."

The man's smile faltered again, but he quickly recovered and smiled charmingly at the crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said loudly, waving for quiet.
"What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time! When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography – which I shall be happy to present him now, free of charge, he had no idea that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, Magical Me. He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

Harry's grin widened to scary proportions at that. Perfect.

The crowd cheered and clapped and Harry found himself being presented with the entire works of Gilderoy Lockhart. Staggering slightly under their weight, he managed to make his way out of the limelight to the edge of the room, where Ginny Weasley was standing next to her new cauldron.

"You have these," Harry mumbled distracted, tipping the books into the cauldron.
"I've already got my own ones anyway…"

"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Quinn?" Draco asked annoyed as he approached.
"Famous Harry Potter can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page."

"Leave him alone, he didn't want all that!" the Weaslette growled.

It was the first time she had spoken in front of Harry. She was glaring at Draco. It was honestly adorable and Harry had to do his very best to keep from laughing. Cute little girl deciding to defend him while she had no idea who or what he was.

"Quinn, you've got yourself a girlfriend!" Draco drawled smirking.

Ginny went scarlet as Ron and the other Weasleys made their way over.

"Malfoy," Ron sneered disgusted while the Twins glared at him too.

Draco didn't seem the least bit fazed by the hostility.

"Ron!" Mr. Weasley called, struggling over.
"What are you doing? It's too crowded in here, let's go outside."

"Well, well, well – Arthur Weasley."

It was Lucius Malfoy. He stood with his hand on Draco's shoulder, sneering at the group of Weasleys.

"Lucius," Mr. Weasley said, nodding coldly.

"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear," Lucius said with a casual sneer.
"All those raids… I hope they're paying you overtime?"

He reached into Ginny's cauldron and extracted, from amid the glossy Lockhart books, a very old, very battered copy of 'A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration'.

"Obviously not," he said with a disgusted frown.
"Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

Mr. Weasley flushed darker than Ginny had earlier and glared at Lucius.

"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy," he growled.

"Clearly," Lucius muttered, his pale eyes straying to Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who were watching apprehensively along with their daughter.
"The company you keep, Weasley… and I thought your family could sink no lower-"

There was a thud of metal as Ginny's cauldron went flying. Mr. Weasley had thrown himself at Mr. Malfoy, knocking him backward into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spellbooks came thundering down on all their heads.

"Get him, Dad!" Fred or George yelled.

"No, Arthur, no!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked.

"Gentlemen, please — please!" cried the assistant.

And in all the commotion, Harry was leaning against the wall, laughing so hard he feared he might just die from lack of oxygen.

. . . . .

Harry was grinning happily as he reached the room again and opened the door. His eyes widened in horror and he couldn't help but think that if he had any innocence left, it would have been erased right that instant.

"AH! Yes! MORE!"

"Good Chaos! Are you two still going?!" he exclaimed horrified.

"Get out, kid," Joker huffed, glaring at him.

"Alright, fine. But if it's another girl, might I suggest naming her Lucy?"

He laughed and dodged the Stinging Hex thrown his way.

"And if it's a boy, please, for the love of all that's dark and evil, don't call him JJ!"