DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. Just inspired by the countless NCIS/HP crossovers I have been reading lately.

Full Summary: Everyone had always said Harry was special. True, the qualities that set Harry apart from the others changed drastically depending on who you asked. But everyone always agreed that Harry was special. He didn't want to be, but it will take a team of Muggles to show Harry that it is okay to be special as long as you are being true to yourself. NCIS/HP Crossover.

A/N: Sorry for the wait. Anyway, with all this Coronavirus stuff going on, I figured I would try to take time and update some. All spelling mistakes are, naturally, my own.

[ Chapter One: And I'm Still Waiting ]

The Dursleys were paranoid; that was why they saw Harry off before they left to do whatever it was they were going to do.

Well, they did not actually see him off. That would have implied that they genuinely cared for him. No, they simply saw that Harry left before them so they could lock him out of the hotel room. That way, he could not do anything potentially freaky in the hotel room while they were gone. He had accidentally forgotten to tell the Dursley's that he wasn't allowed to perform magic outside of Hogwarts. It had honestly slipped his mind at the time, what with everything going on, and he had not felt the need to tell them when he had remembered.

It wasn't like he could do magic anyway, considering that his wand was locked securely in his "spare bedroom," in Surrey- if you could call the cupboard that. They liked to threaten to lock Harry back in there when he couldn't finish his chores to their liking, but Harry was relatively sure that they wouldn't lock him back in the cupboard. They were still afraid that some of his lot was watching them, which prevented them from doing anything more than yelling at him and assigning countless chores.

Still, the Dursley's erred on the side of caution and warned him not to show himself before nightfall, at the absolute earliest. He, of course, was probably free to stay out all night- all week- for all they cared. This command was something Harry was all too eager to abide by, as he naturally jumped at any chance he got to get away from his shrewish guardian, her abusive husband, and their equally unpleasant son.

So Harry went on his way, and the Dursley's went their way. None of them so much as a glanced back to see where he was going.

Harry did not know where he was going to go; he supposed he could visit some of the Smithsonian museums; he had heard Hermione mention once or twice. She would be put-out if he didn't, but he really didn't care to see a bunch of stuffed figures and objects that once played an essential part in this country's development. The portraits, and other forms of art, or airplanes and spaceships, at least right now, could wait. He had all week to visit them as he had heard that they were free to the public to attend. In Surrey, the only thing he could do without money was to go to the neighborhood park or the library, but he wasn't Hermione and did not enjoy spending copious amounts of time surrounded by books. He got his fill of that when he was at Hogwarts, particularly around exam time. And he was often chased away from the park by Dudley and his gang, so he wasn't overly eager to go to the park.

At least the Smithsonian would serve as a good time-killer and boredom buster for when he got bored wandering around D.C. or if it started raining or something. And it was bound to be packed with other tourists, so if he happened to run into the Dursley's while he was there, he could probably get lost in the crowd and avoid a confrontation with them.

But he doubted that his Aunt and Uncle would waste their time dragging Dudley to more than a couple of "boring museums" when there were bound to be more exciting things to do. So the Smithsonian would probably be a safe place to hang around until he needed to appear at the hotel again.

Walking in the direction he assumed would lead him to the more downtown federal business area of D.C., Harry decided to spend the day just getting his bearings rather than do any real site seeing. He had a reasonably good sense of directions once he got used to a place or area, so without anyone to guide him, Harry set off in the direction that he hoped would take him to the National Mall area.

Harry slowly made his way from the hotel to Constitution Ave. That had been the road they had taken to the hotel. Hence, Harry knew that once he found that Avenue, he wouldn't, or shouldn't, have a problem finding all the government buildings that he knew Hermione would want him to see, or any of the numerous monuments and statues that denoted special events or people. Wondering around, Harry eventually made it to the National Mall and marveled at the expanse of it. It wasn't as wide as it was long, but the whole space was void of trees, making it a clear shot from the Lincoln Memorial to the Capital. Harry just stopped and took it all in, wishing, not for the first time that day, that he had a phone, or a camera, so that he could take pictures and send it to Hermione. She would be jealous, to say the least, when he told her at the beginning of the next term. Harry smiled to himself at his best friend's antics. No doubt, she'd be ready to quiz him on every single detail of the trip.

Deciding to mill around the Lincoln Memorial, reading and re-reading the two inscribed speeches the man was most noted for. Harry didn't have an opinion on the man, as they did not teach muggle world history at Hogwarts. Still, Harry did find himself listening in on the conversations of the other tourist, if for nothing else, but in the vain hope that he would be able to at least follow along with Hermione's ramblings about the immortalized man in front of him.

Harry probably hung out around the Lincoln Memorial for hours until the crowds thinned out, and the sky darkened. He wasn't particularly eager to go back to the hotel room but knew that it was inevitable, as who else was there to unpack their bags for them? As he was sure, Dudley would whine about being too tired from that day's travel to do his own unpacking.

Nevermind, Harry might be tired too as he had traveled just as long as Dudley had.

It was an unspoken rule at the Dursley's that freaks like him didn't deserve to be tired.

Slowly, Harry trekked back in the same direction he had taken hours earlier.

Although it took considerably longer getting back to the hotel, Harry made it back, not too long after the Dursley's had arrived.

Knocking on the door, Harry waited patiently for one of his relatives to come and let him in. He felt kind of like a dog, and in the Dursley's eyes, he was probably no better than the common mongrel.

After several minutes of waiting, Harry knocked again.

Eventually, the door jerked open, and he was faced with an angry Uncle Vernon.

"What do you think you're doing causing all that commotion! Get inside immediately!" Before he was promptly snatched by the collar and pulled in, seconds later, his uncle all but slammed the door.

No sooner than when the door closed, Harry was thrown up against the wall.

"Where were you?" His uncle hissed out the fury evident in his voice.

"Doing what you told me to do, Uncle, roaming the streets until nightfall," Harry gulped while bracing himself for the blow that was sure to come.

"Don't get smart with me, boy!" Snapped his uncle as he gripped his shoulder in a vice-like grip and gave him a solid shake.

Harry felt his head bounce against the wall a few times before his uncle stopped shaking him and all but pushed him down the hall and to the second room, he was supposed to share with Dudley.

"Go to bed! I don't want to see your sorry face until it's time to leave tomorrow morning." Uncle Vernon said while jabbing a fat finger towards a closed door.

"And don't you dare think about keeping Dudley up tonight, boy! He is a growing boy who needs rest." His Aunt added from the little sitting-room.

Harry nodded, not that she could see him, and scurried to the room, softly closing the door and settling in a corner. He knew that sleep would not come to him quickly for a while. Not until everyone was asleep, then and only then would he be willing to let his guard down enough to try to fall asleep.

Morning came earlier than Harry had anticipated, as the Dursley men were not known for being early risers. Usually, Harry would be woken up by his aunt wrapping on his door, shrilly demanding that he get breakfast started. Still, on this particular morning, it was more or less a repeat of yesterday where the Dursley's made sure he was gone before they headed out. Dudley and his Aunt were planning on going to the Mall and some of the surrounding attractions today. While his uncle was preparing for his first day of the business trip, just before they were ready to head out for a day full of exploring and work, his uncle pulled him aside and threatened him with the "beating of his life" if he so much as ruined a second of their vacation.

His uncle felt a good deal bolder here in the States than he did back in England, probably because he knew that no one was keeping tabs on him.

On his first full day out in the city, Harry discovered that D.C. was much like London in the sense that it was much more than just the central hub for important politicians and lawmakers. There were other jobs, non-governmental that far outnumbered the countless government agencies that lined Constitution Ave.

And where there weren't people working in business and offices, there was construction.

Everywhere he looked, there were men in hard hats and fence lining the perimeter of job sites. Harry did not pay them any mind other than to watch where he stepped.

He didn't pay anyone any mind. And for the most part, no one minded him. On one occasion, there had been an American family who was on a vacation who had approached him in concern. It took countless reassurances that his relatives were in the general area and that he had just wandered off for a couple of minutes, and that he was okay (he did it all the time, really!) they finally left him be.

Harry quickly left the area in fear that they would come back and still see him loitering about and really start asking questions.

By the time night had fallen, and Harry decided it was probably best to start heading back to the hotel, Harry had walked all around the better part of downtown D.C. Although Harry tried to stick to the more densely and well-populated streets since safety was in numbers and all that, he decided to risk-taking relatively short and well-lit alleyway. Harry felt that even though he was in an unknown city, that he would be fine and started walking in the direction he hoped would get him back to the hotel quicker.

He was only a quarter of the way down the road when the calm night turned into anything but. One moment he was walking along, and the next moment he heard someone running. Turning his head to try to find where the fast footfalls were coming from, he suddenly began to wonder if he should start running.

Before he had a chance to decide if he should be running, he found himself being pushed forcefully to the ground by an unseen assailant.

Landing rough, Harry felt his glasses slip off his face and fly across the pavement, leaving him barely able to see anything.

Harry wasn't sure who or why he had been pushed, but the next moment a loud noise cut through the air like a knife somewhere very close by.

Harry didn't need to be able to see to know that it was a gun. Someone was firing a gun. He wasn't thinking in the terms as to why they were firing only that they were firing. And for all he knew or cared, it could have been at him they were trying to hit. Oh merlin, he was too young to die! Particularly in such a muggle fashion, although he thought that dying by a bullet was better than him being killed by his whale-of-an-uncle.

Ears still ringing, he scrambled up, to try to find his glasses and bolt the moment he had them securely back on his face when another gunshot rang out. This time it was followed by the sound of something heavy- like a body- hitting the ground.

Glasses lying forgotten where they fell, Harry, in his fear that he might become the gunman's next target dove for cover behind a rubbish bin? Was that a rubbish bin? He couldn't tell due to not having his glasses, and it was a bit dark out but, if that saved him from getting shot like the other guy (he assumed it was a guy and not a woman), then he would hide in it.

Doing the only thing he was good at doing, according to the Dursley's at least, Harry stayed quiet and made himself small to not draw attention to the shooter that he was there.

The person who Harry suspected had done the shooting lingered for a few moments afterward, although Harry had no way of knowing if the man was looking for him, or just making sure the person he had shot was dead. Finally, Harry was able to release the breath he hadn't even known he'd been holding when the man ran off at the sound of approaching sirens. Someone must have called the police, Harry realized, or the police had been close enough to hear the shots and were coming to investigate.

Even after the last of the footsteps faded, he did not take a chance of venturing out of his hiding place and stayed hidden. He knew that silence did not mean safety in situations like this. There were times his uncle would be quiet to try to trick Harry into thinking one way when, in reality, it was another. Speaking of his uncle, Uncle Vernon, will be furious when he returns as it was getting late, and he was sure his uncle was going to have another early start tomorrow.

Plus, the guy could have always come back if he wanted to, and Harry didn't want to have a run-in with him.

Only, he didn't come back. The police came instead, not that Harry revealed himself to them either. He knew that he should do the right thing, the Gryffindor thing, and make himself known and tell them what he had witnessed, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. It wasn't that he didn't trust the police; it's just that they had never helped him in the past, so he didn't feel overly compelled to come out of hiding just to help them.

They had, on occasion, been sent to the Dursley's home when a neighbor complained about yelling and screaming coming from inside Number 4. When the police came to investigate the complaint, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia always passed it off as having a domestic and the police didn't feel the need to investigate further. If they had just looked in the boot cupboard located under the stairs, they would have had cause for a different investigation. But, they never did. Choosing to believe that it had only been another disturbance call instead of what it actually was- not that the Dursley's had made it obvious that another child was living with them.

It wasn't like he could provide them with much information anyway if they asked-on account of losing his glasses. And when they got bored of questioning him, they would ask him why he was out alone so late, and return him to the Dursley's where the fun would really begin.

Feeling sure that the police wouldn't be checking the dumpster, or else they already would have, Harry, relaxed a bit and listened to what they were saying. There was no way the killer, as he had heard the police say the man had died, would return for him now with so many cops around scouring the place for clues.

Harry was surprised that none of the police had managed to find his glasses. Not that he knew where they were at, but he had thought they would have been somewhere near the guy who had been shot.

Harry remained quiet for several more minutes until the police seemed to start heading back to their cars and drive away.

He had thought he was in the clear after the police seemed to stop looking around and seemed to be just milling around until some more police types showed up. Harry wasn't sure if they were the police as the ones on the scene seemed to recap what they had already done and explain the little bit of evidence they had found.

After the one, Harry thought, was the leader of the new group, finished talking to the few remaining police; he started commanding the other people to take pictures and search for more evidence. This man sounded stern, who appeared to have little patience with his colleague's jokes as he was quick to delegate tasks to his team.

The police had decided to let the new group take over the case as several more cars left until the only ones left were the NCIS team, as he had heard them being called, and Harry. Harry hated this because it meant that it would be that much later before he could try to sneak away.

Harry wasn't sure what the NCIS did, or even what the abbreviations stood for, but he was sure that they were some sort of detectives.

It was only when one of them came within feet of him as they rechecked the area for any missed clues that Harry felt like his cover might be blown before he could bail.

Harry froze and curled up on himself as he tried to calm himself. He was somewhat surprised his pounding heart hadn't given him away yet. His heart almost leaped out of his chest when the man, DiNozzo, thought he heard someone call him, suddenly exclaim: "Hey, boss! I found some glasses over here!"

He heard someone walk over, but Harry didn't dare peek to see who it was. "I didn't think the Petty Officer wore glasses."

"That's because he didn't, DiNozzo!" The "boss," said.

"But why would there be glasses? We searched the whole area, and there's no one in sight."

"That means someone else was here! And they could still be here. Did any of you think to check that dumpster for the murder weapon?" The "boss," said. Harry thought he had heard one of them address the man as "Gibbs," but he didn't know, and so, for now, he would call the person "boss."

"Well, no. Hey McGoo, check out the dumpster, will you?" Tony called out before Harry heard the sound of someone getting slapped and instinctively flinched.

Harry can only assume that he had done something at that moment to alert them of his presence because suddenly, everything went silent. Before Harry had time to react or panic, clenched his eyes shut and hoped no one would check behind the dumpster.

A moment later, he heard, "Freeze! Put your hands up and freeze!"

Frozen in fear, Harry couldn't follow the man's command as he was too busy staring wide-eyed at the gun that was being pointed at his face.

"What the- there's a kid back here!" DiNozzo exclaimed in shock as he went to holster his gun.

"We've got eyes, DiNozzo. McGee, get Ducky, the boy's bleeding!" Came the woman's voice causing Harry's head to snap up and notice that she was on top of the dumpster and appeared to also be holstering her gun and jumping off the rubbish bin and landing beside DiNozzo.

Harry slowly unfurled himself. There was no hiding himself now that he'd been spotted.