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I claim no rights to either fandoms. They belong to their respective owners.

I want to thank pawsoffurie for doing the exhausting work of beta-ing this story! Darling, you are the absolute best (especially for the commentary and explanations, you are a LIFE-SAVIOR)! Thank you from the bottom of my heart! I am in your debt!

WARNINGS: slash, explicit content, angst, drama, violence, blood

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Harry heaved a heavy sigh as he walked down the streets of Los Angeles. Even though he was supposed to be on vacation he just couldn't relax. His magic was restless, and he was constantly overtly aware of everything going on around him. Hermione called every other day, and he hated lying to her, but it was quite enough that she forced him to make this world wide trip; he didn't need her locking him away somewhere, in the middle of nowhere, in her attempts to make him rest for once in his life.

He stopped in the middle of the street and dug through his pockets trying to find the slip of paper Hermione gave him before he left. It held the address of Hermione's cousin, Angela Dodson.

He met Angela at Hermione and Ron's wedding, and while he found the woman to be very kindhearted, she was also very, very sad. It seemed as though she was missing a great part of herself. They got along quite nicely, and she told him that if he ever decided to travel she would welcome him to her apartment.

And now Harry was there to take her up on her offer.

Problem was she worked for the Police and he had misplaced (he didn't lose it) her phone number, and now he was somehow lost. He was walking beside an apartment block when he heard almost inhuman screams.

A voice in the back of his head told him to just keep on walking. Another scream made him look up.

"Move the car!" he heard a voice coming from a window and looked down to see a yellow cab parked directly beneath it.

"Why?!" the guy in the cab called up, and Harry couldn't help but raise an eyebrow when he heard the displeasure and annoyance in the guy's voice.

"MOVE THE DAMN CAR!" the other guy shouted from the window. Harry couldn't stop the chuckle which escaped him and, as he turned around to continue on his way, he saw the cab move some three feet backwards, and he shook his head when he heard the guy shout again.

"There! I moved the damn car!" Harry took a step forward when a feeling of dread washed over him, and he smelled something that almost made him puke.

He heard shouts coming from behind and turned around to look up at where the shouting was coming from. Screams sounded again and his legs made the decision for him. He was halfway to the car when a wall mirror suddenly flew out from the seventh floor window. His breath hitched in his throat when he saw a creature reflected in the mirror before all three hundred pounds of iron and glass came crashing down on the taxi's hood.

If Harry wasn't as terrified as he was, he would have laughed at the irony. Instead he shivered when he felt a wave of pure evil wash over his body and a gurgling cry faded into the air.

He stood there completely frozen in his place. His body was trembling, his breath came out in gasps, and he couldn't wrap his mind around what he saw.

It couldn't have been.

The sun was playing tricks on him.

Yes. That was it.

Well, it was either that or he has finally gone insane.

He licked his dry lips, swallowed, and entered a small street. He apparated away to the main station and decided to put it all behind him and forget everything about it.

He was on a vacation and he was damned if he got mixed up into something that just didn't concern him.

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Angela sighed as she walked to her apartment. She was tired, hungry and sleepy. All she wanted was to get to her apartment, feed her cat, get something to eat, shower and go to sleep, not necessarily in that order; and she would have had she not seen a hunched figure on the steps of her apartment. The light of the streetlamp shone down on a wild mop of raven black hair and joy bloomed in her heart.

"I can't believe it!" she cried out in joy and the man's head snapped up to reveal two lively emerald orbs belonging to none other than Harry James Potter.

Harry smiled at her and stood up as she hurried over to him taking in his lithe figure with a bright grin. He looked better than he did when she saw him at the wedding two years ago. He filled up nicely and his street fighter build was complimented by the faded jeans and the tight black shirt he was wearing. His wild, chin long hair gave him a boyish look, and high cheekbones accented his beautiful eyes.

She ran into his accepting arms and hugged him tightly. Just like the first time they met, the moment she touched him she suddenly felt lighter. It felt like the air around him was somehow cleaner, purer, and the way he hugged her back made all her worries disappear, as though there was something in him that erased everything dark and evil from the world.

It felt comforting. It felt warm. Angela knew why her cousin Hermione loved Harry like a brother, and why she worried so much about him.

Harry was the kind of man who would do whatever it took to help someone, and wouldn't ask for anything in return. It was a quality worthy of the highest praise, but one which often got him into trouble.

"Mione told me you would be coming, but I didn't know I'd be seeing you so soon!" she said when they parted and Harry looked down at her with a small frown.

"What happened? Problems?" he asked when he saw just how she looked. Angela rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Yeah. A dingy job. I was checked by the paramedics already so there's no need to worry." She assured him after he chuckled at her job-complaint. "Let's go inside! How long have you been sitting out here?" he winced at her question.

"Not long actually. I got a bit lost so I wandered around town for a few hours. In the end I just took a cab after grabbing a bite to eat." Angela rolled her eyes as they climbed the stairs and she led him into her apartment.

"And you couldn't call me? No, wait, I know," she tossed him an amused glance while she unlocked her door, "you lost my number." Harry gave her an incredulous look.

"I didn't lose it!" he cried out, "I just temporarily misplaced it." He corrected, and Angela laughed as she they walked in. A weak mewl made them look down at a kitten and Harry kneeled with a grin.

"Well, hello there beauty." He murmured and picked the cat up while Angela shook her head and locked the door. She walked towards the kitchen and Harry followed her, petting the happily purring cat ("He's name's Ducky." - "Ducky?" -"Yes, got a problem with it?" - "No, no.") in his arms while Angela took off her jacket.

"So, what brings you to L.A? Hermione said you would come and visit if you were in town, but she didn't tell me why you left good ol' England." She placed some food in the cat's feeder, and the cat jumped from Harry's arms as he looked at Angela.

She was fumbling around the kitchen and Harry frowned. He could see she was disturbed. Her eyes were more haunted than the last time he had seen her.

"Hermione's orders actually. She seems to be convinced I need a vacation. A good, long rest." He answered and saw how her shoulders tensed minutely. A moment later she sighed and opened the fridge. She took something out and grabbed a knife from a drawer. Harry frowned and moved over to her. Careful not to startle her, he stopped her from cutting the tomato and gently took the knife from her hand.

Slowly he sat her down at the kitchen table and crouched in front of her. He looked up into her eyes clasped her hands between his bigger, warmer ones, and frowned when he saw how much she was trembling.

"Angela? What happened?" he asked and Angela closed her eyes and shivered. Ever since she heard him use that same comforting, understanding tone of voice on Hermione when she almost ran away on her wedding day, Angela knew why no one could say no to Harry. She understood why Hermione told her Harry was the go-to guy for almost everything.

His warmth was inviting. His eyes were filled with genuine concern. She wished she could hide in his arms like a small child and forget about everything that happened.

"Angela?" she let go of a wavering breath and opened her eyes to look in his warm, emerald orbs.

"I killed a man today." She whispered. "Another one." She swallowed over a lump in her throat and licked her lips as she gazed down at their joined hands. Harry sighed and gently squeezed her hands between his before he looked in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Angela." Harry murmured and Angela shrugged and looked to the side in an attempt to push back the tears that wanted to fall.

"Most cops go twenty years without firing their gun." Her voice was hardly louder than a whisper as she stared at something only she could see. "Not me." An undertone of bitterness entered the tone of her voice. "I always seem to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Angela-"

"I didn't even see his face." She cut him off as a single tear trailed down her cheek. "I just pulled the trigger and he went away; just like all the others."

"These feelings are natural in your line of work, Angela. I'd be worried if you didn't have them." Harry said and Angela looked at him. "What matters is that you don't lose sight of why you're doing what you're doing, and stay strong." Angela nodded and tugged her right hand from between Harry's to wipe her tears away.

"I'm trying." She breathed out and closed her eyes tiredly. "I'm trying real hard." Harry stood up and pulled her along. For a few moments they stood in the kitchen with Angela in Harry's arms. She hid her face in his chest and breathed in his scent; the combination of sandalwood and another musky scent calmed her tortured mind. Harry kissed the crown of her head and rubbed his hands down her arms.

"Go. Take a shower. Can I take the couch?" he asked with a lopsided smile making her chuckle.

"I'm sure you'll transfigure it into something more comfortable." She said and pushed herself up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

"I'll lay out a towel for you, okay? If you're hungry, feel right at home. I'll see you in the morning." Harry smiled and nodded.

"Get some rest." She nodded and left. Harry sighed when she left the kitchen, and flicked his wrist to clean up. He wasn't hungry. While he listened to her talk he had remembered the war, had remembered his first kill; remembered the horror when he realized he had taken a life.

He swallowed and licked his lips, and left the kitchen. He heard the shower going and cast a cleaning charm over himself before he transfigured his clothes into a pair of pajamas. He transfigured a pillow and a comforter on the couch and widened it a bit to make it more comfortable. He hadn't even lain down properly before Ducky jumped up to settle beside him.

He scratched Ducky's head and he purred, making Harry's lips tilt into a small smile.

He listened intently for when Angela came out of the bathroom, but the cat's soft purring and the sound of water flowing soon lulled him into a fitful sleep.

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When Harry walked into the kitchen the next morning he instantly knew Angela wasn't any better. If possible she was even worse.

All it took was for their eyes to meet, and Harry felt a wave of icy coldness wash over him.

"My sister," Angela whispered, and Harry gulped as goose-bumps appeared on his skin. "She's dead."

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No John yet, but we'll fix that soon enough. *wink, wink*