Oh, the nerve!

She was almost 100% sure she had not any kind of mark or smudge on her cheek, especially chocolate, since they had had café au lait and croissants for breakfast and none of that had even a hint of chocolate.

"That's a lie, and you know it," she said, not breaking eye contact and not falling for such dirty tricks.

"Ho?" His voice was deep, if rather flat and deadpan, but she had spent enough time with Zabini in the last year to detect an Italian accent, and anyway, he had given his nationality away with his choice of words.

Not letting her eyes move an inch, even if they were starting to get dry, she let herself have a moment to reevaluate all she knew of Blaise, and yes, he also was one of those super stylish Slytherins that called himself a self-made fashionista. Maybe it was not a Slytherin thing but an Italian thing. That must be it.

"Yes, signore. Now, if you will excuse me, I would like to continue reading my…"

A very lime green thing suddenly crashed into her periphery and, paranoid and strung out as she was, she grabbed whatever that was, and squeezed it, making it make a horrible sound.

She broke eye contact with the Italian man and looked at her hand, where some kind of lizard was nearly squashed in her left hand. Oh, it was such a cute little thing.

"Oh, you poor thing," she cooed, opening her hand carefully to not hurt the little lizard anymore. "What is such a gorgeous and handsome boy doing here?"

The lizard suddenly changed color from lime green to a brilliant and intense red. Oh, so it was some kind of chameleon, but such a cute one, and that red.

"Don't blush, you are really cute and you should be aware of it already," she lectured the chameleon, who didn't seem to have been even a bit harmed by her unintentionally rough treatment and just looked at her with curiosity.

"That's enough. Leon, come back."

Oh, right, the muggle fashionista with attitude issues.

She had totally forgotten about him and going by his tone of voice, he didn't seem amused not being the center of attention. Well, it sucked for him because Leon the Chameleon (and wasn't that such a good title for a little story…?) was much more interesting.

"How much do you want for him?" she asked, arching an eyebrow and petting Leon lovingly. Leon was purring? Did chameleons purr? Maybe it was a magical chameleon? She would have to research or write to Hermione to do the research for her.

"He's not for sale, and even if he was, you couldn't afford him," he said, his voice still flat, but with an undercurrent of something else. "Now, Leon, come back," he ordered, moving a few steps in her direction.

She moved backward, still enamored with the idea of Leon and not ready to let go so soon. Leon seemed very comfortable in her hands anyway. She carefully moved him to her shoulder, where he made himself a little ball, pressing against her neck and not moving.

"Well, he obviously likes me more," she reasoned. "Just tell me a price and we can all be adults about this. I will take excellent care of him. I will even give you 15% more of what your price is because it must be really traumatic to lose such a gorgeous little thing."

"The only little thing here is you, miss," he commented, looking at her again, from shoes to the top of her head. "I am the The Wolds Greatest Hitman, so if you don't hand Leon over in the next 5 seconds, you are dust."

Hariel laughed at that, but she felt how Leon abruptly moved away from her neck and hopped back into the man's own shoulder.

He sent a small glare, Leon's way and smirked at her.

Hariel huffed and now really annoyed with him, and with Leon too for abandoning her, decided to do her thing and ignore them both.

"Whatever. I am going to read," she told him. "And anyway, you lost the moment you threatened me with moronically unbelievable false stuff. Obviously, Leon believed you and wanted to protect me. So… I win."

She plopped herself into the soft seat she had been occupying before and gave him a smug smile. Like she was going to lose to a stupid muggle at… well, at whatever.

She opened her book where she had left it and continued to read this weird muggle book that had been highly recommended because apparently there was a TV show of it. She had wanted to watch the TV show instead because it seemed interesting, but Hermione and even her mom had insisted that she should always read the books first because otherwise her experience would be spoiled.

Such a pair of elitist book nerds, Merlin's beard.

"So, where are your guardians, little girl? And if you count that as a win, your standard is set really low"

He had seated himself as far away as possible, thanks to Hecate, Morgana, and Merlin, but seemed to want to make conversation or to annoy her. By his words, he was still butt-hurt about losing, but she knew she didn't look young enough to have guardians with her on a trip.

She may be short and look young, but she was going to be 19 in a month, and now that she looked at him, he didn't look old either. Early to mid-twenties at max. It was the clothes and the expression on his face. His eyes looked old too.

"Well, last I heard rotting and six feet under," she commented without looking away from the inky words of the page she was reading. "Didn't bother to get new ones, since you know, I am an adult and all.

Yes. It was a terrible thing to talk ill of the death, and with such glibness, but well, they were the Dursleys, and it wasn't even her fault. It was actually karma since both adult Dursley had died in a car crash, and in the coroner report, the alcohol content on the blood of Uncle Vernon's had been extremely elevated.

She had gone to the funeral because she had felt somewhat sorry for Dudley. Theirs was a complicated relationship if there was one, but had left pretty fast. Especially when Marge had arrived, late, since she couldn't find some dog sitters for those little beasts of hers.

She wouldn't badmouth them in front of her cousin, but since they had been such horrible people and she hated them with passion, she was also not going to mince her words.

If it made her look callous and unfeeling, well, that was not her problem.

There was silence after that.

xxxx

Reborn was looking at an inexplicable, impossible thing, and he was not happy about it. But it was also really fascinating, so his interest had been truly picked, and he would discover the ins and outs of the Mystery until he was thoroughly satisfied.

He hated to be in the dark about things, and this was inexcusable. There were just no words.

Heads were going to roll.

It all had started with boredom. Somewhere down the line, Dame-Tsuna had grown a spine, and even if he could make the brat scream, cry and hide if he tried, and sometimes even without trying, he had felt restless.

The curse was broken. The curse was broken.

And he somehow had come out of it alive, if still in his small toddler form. Thankfully, their growth had been an accelerated one thanks to one of Verde's discoveries and the way the curse worked on itself.

They had to pass every stage of growth, and once reached adulthood they had stopped the treatments since no one of them wanted to actually look like an old geezer. Not that he would because he could perfectly control the way his cells behaved. He was a Sun, after all. The strongest Sun.

He was no healer, even if the stupid instinct sometimes nagged at him, rarely though, and not one thing that he would indulge.

His own body and Leon's upkeep was another thing. He was, well, they both were extremely healthy and in peak physical condition.

Still, he had been bored, restless, so he had decided to go and take some hits.

A change actually, since with his tutoring, he had been busy to go touring across the world in Hit Sprees.

So, he had looked, and even if it was not interesting or rewarding by any means he had decided to take the hit on a Salvatore Sforza, and since he was going to be traveling to Brussels and taking the train in Paris, he had studied some other hits, until he had a pretty nice plan, that would also be some kind of Euro trip.

Not that he was telling that to anyone, though. But he was bored and he wanted to try the coffee and pastries of several countries. Hmm, Belgian chocolate, the more bitter the better.

He was the Best Hitman in the World, and he would travel in style, that was, like saying that the sky was blue or that Gokudera was obsessed with Tsuna.

He had gotten online to get the best tickets and was very annoyed to find that the best compartment had been booked in that same instant, some glitch or something, leaving him with half a compartment and one Adeline Astrid Silveman the other.

He had run the name in his very sophisticated data searching engine because one was never too careful, and had encountered the picture of a black-haired young woman with green eyes, apparently born in Bristol and a past student at Woldingham School in England.

He had run a search of the Silverman family and found Oscar Silverman, widower of Annette née Bradbury.

He was a carpenter with an antique shop in his hometown, and his deceased wife had been a school teacher. Apparently, the wife had been old money, and as such, they had sent their only daughter to a somewhat prestigious school, if the ratings he read about were true, and he knew they were because he wouldn't accept anything but perfection.

He had even looked at the girls' grades. Apparently, she was excellent at British flower Arrangement, since there was an old article about it in a small-time local newspaper, and in chemistry. The rest was average B's, with one C in History. Kids these days. Such mediocrity.

Well, he had thought, not everyone could have a Tutor such as himself, that could turn even the worst moron into an A-level student and more. He could turn way worse than mediocre into the Best Mafia Boss.

He had smiled to himself, in the confines of his mind, where he used to do such things because when people saw him smiling they started screaming, things got broken and even if he absolutely adored Chaos, he had to be the one intentionally causing it, to be fun.

But yes, he was proud of his Tsuna Project. It turned out well. Of course, it was that or death for his student, but that didn't matter since everything had gone so well.

So, prepared as he always was, when he had opened the compartment he hadn't expected the really, really intense and bright Sky Flames nearly choking him with the pureness they emitted.

He had been paralyzed by them, his eyes locked with that of the Sky, which were not normal green like the photo suggested, but really, really, starkly bright green.

She had said something and he had automatically responded, but his mind was just… he was baffled, and he had never used that word to think or refer to himself.

First of all, he knew all the Skies or at least the important ones, and one with such Flames would be top of the fucking list. Seriously, what even?

Second, such Flames should be felt from afar easily. They absolutely had saturated the compartment they were in, and it couldn't have been more than a few minutes.

He should have been able to feel them from any point in France, unrestrained and wild as they were, not even a hint of structure or training to them. It was like she had awakened them at some point and they had just… gone on to be as obnoxiously large and bright as possible.

They were in such a strange contrast with other Skies he had met too… he could feel how her curious and inquisitive Flames followed and tried to play with his own, even if he was restraining his to not contact hers in any way or form, which was impossible in a room so saturated and full of radiant Sky Flames.

But in no moment did her Flames make any attempt at harmonization. When he encountered Skies, even if they were not aware of it (most were) their flames tried to capture him in their Sky. He truly loathed the idea of forced harmonization, even if some of these Skies did it without meaning to do it, just attracted to the intensity of his own flames.

But, returning to his train of thought.

He hadn't felt them. He hadn't felt them until he was in the same compartment, doors closed.

They must have been in the same station, outside the train at some point (he had wanted one last espresso) but he hadn't felt them, so obviously it was some kind of Mist mind-fuckery.

Not that he had heard that ever happening, but what other explanation could be?

And last, where were her guardians, what family was she from? A Sky with such wild Flames should have felt the need to bond to strong Flames as soon as possible. It was a Sky thing, it was in their instinct to search for Guardians, the same way some elements were drawn to Skies (not that he was one, not anymore).

The Arcobaleno protected Yuni, yes, but no one of them had bonded with her. It was more of a traditional thing or an allegiance thing.

He had tried to read her mind since she seemed to want to play games with him, but there was nothing. He had been extremely irritated, and then Leon had to go and jump into her, probably to soak in more of those Sky Flames, the traitor.

He had watched like a hawk how one of her hands had moved fast, with impeccable reflexes, and trapped Leon mid-jump.

Then the little shit had absolutely ignored him and started sweet-talking his animal companion. Leon had lapped every praise and sweet word, of course, he did.

He needed to call Shamal and had him run a comprehensive analysis of her flames, and he needed to know everything about her and her family, like yesterday.

No reaction at all when he had said his title, except mockery, and how he had itched to draw his gun, but he didn't have all the facts, or any of the facts, so he would wait and observe.

Then she had sat and started reading, and with that most of the pressure of her Flames on his had receded. They were still curious and playful, trying to get his to play a weird game of tag, but as her attention had gone away, the full pressure of her flames had gone to just surround her like a shield of fire.

He needed time to think and settle himself down, but first, he needed to ask about the Guardians.

Rotting and six feet under.

Well, shit. So, probably this was a civilian Sky, with no family and no allegiances and probably traumatized or something. Even if it all seemed ludicrous. Those kinds of things just didn't happen.

A series of truly horrendous rings distracted him from his troughs, and they came from her handbag.

She just looked confused and, with her nose wrinkled, finally searched inside her bag and came up with the latest iPhone model.

She looked at it with disgust, for like a whole minute, the ring still going on and he was a second away from snatching it and throwing it from the window.

Finally, she just touched it like it would bite, and Reborn used his Sun Flames to listen to the entire conversation. The Intel was needed. He also sent a text to Shamal:

Come to this location ASAP. No delays. Reborn.

xxxxxx

Hariel had been amused by something Crowley did in the book when an atrocious sound startled her so badly she nearly started shooting spells at her bag. What in Merlin's name was that sound?

She looked into her bag and found one of these muggle phones. Oh, great.

What did she have to do to make it stop screeching?

She looked at it and it was like crystal and metal, there were no buttons, except two little drawings inside the crystal thing. She pressed one to see what happened and, suddenly, she could hear the muffled voice of Hermione.

Right. She could do this. She had used the phone before. Just, you know, normal ones.

"Harry? Harry?"

"Here," she answered quite mad, "Didn't we have this conversation a dozen times? I told you I didn't want one of these… things."

"Oh, Harry, I am sooo glad you learned how to pick it up. I told Fleur, maybe we should get you something more simple, but she insisted that you would love the rose gold, since it's what's fashionable right now or something and…"

"I hate pink. You know that. Everyone should know that."

"Well, rose gold is quite different from pink. Anyway, how is the trip going?" she asked, probably hoping that the phone business was going to be forgiven and forgotten.

"Looks pink to me. And even if it was red, I told you no. I told you no, a number of times. More than a dozen, I am certain." Hariel was really irritated. Hermione and her mom had wanted to get her a cell phone to be in contact, even though they had several other methods to do just that, but no, they had chattered incessantly about the wonders of muggle smartphones. Why, they were almost magical, you could ask for dinner or take photos or paint or listen to music… and they had gone on and on and on, and Harry said no.

"I did as you always do, you know, the 'It's better to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission' thing?" Hermione was starting to sound annoyed. Good, she hated when she was the only one mad.

"That's invalid, especially when I had already said no. No is always no. It's a thing of consent, and you should be very well aware of that."

"Of course, look, I am really sorry, Harry, but you know, it will be very useful and we can talk and you are going alone for the first time, so we were worried."

"Not buying it. We can talk anyway without this pink, atrocious monstrosity. And what in the bloody hell was that sound when you called?"

"Uh, I don't know? Must be the usual default ringtone. Just look at it, and you can change it yourself. It's very easy," Hermione sounded helpful, so that was not good because Hariel was still mad.

"Like hell. I am throwing it from a window the moment this conversation is over." Hariel grouched.

"But my mom bought it for you," Hermione pleaded.

"You just said Fleur and you chose the color. I will reimburse your mom, just tell her the truth and had a talk about boundaries."
Hariel felt herself scoring a point because her best friend was always going on about setting boundaries and boundaries in general.

There was some shuffling in the other end and several voices that she couldn't tell apart.

"Hey mate!" Ron's voice was too loud. "I told her you would be mad, you know, I told her, but you know she never listens, so…"

"Please, lower the voice, Ron, it sounds as if you are screaming and I am developing a migraine already."

"Right," he said, sounding a little bashful. "Well, so anyway, mate, you won't believe it."

Ron sounded delighted and gleeful, so it could be multiple things, like his mom making a cake from Draco Malfoy dying.

"What happened?" she asked because, well, she was curious now. She hadn't seen or talked to Ron since leaving England a week ago.

"Well, I am going to Romania with Charlie."

"What?! Really?" Hariel arched an eyebrow because both of them had asked, but apparently Dragons were too dangerous and if something did happen, it would be endless paperwork for both countries' Magical Creatures ministries.

"Yes, and that's not everything," he kept saying, "Krum will be there for a week, so we are going to catch up, maybe play some games.

Hariel blinked.

"But you hate Viktor. Are you sure you didn't hit your head with something?"

"I don't hate the bloke, I just don't like him hounding my friends. Look when he asked Hermione out! Ouch! No! Stop, you harpy, it is my turn talking to Harry!"

Harry flopped in the armchair, the phone in her hands, their bickering loud enough to hear from a distance, then she saw a button that said End Call, and she pressed it.

Oh, good. Silence. She smiled brightly.

Then the thing started screening again and she was fast to press in the green color bubble thing.

"Harry! Did you accidentally cut the call?" Hermione's voice again. Well, at least the bickering had stopped.

"No, you were giving me a migraine.

"Well, that's just rude," Hermione said without real heat, "But I am glad you learned how to do it by yourself!"

"I am going to get revenge on this" Hariel decided, fed up. "I swear it on my Name and that of my Houses"

"No need for those things, Harry, stop being such a drama queen. I knew I shouldn't have let you watch Game of Thrones"

Hariel smirked amused at knowing something that Hermione didn't, but well, it was a thing to swear on the magic of your house, especially in the old pureblood lines. Sirius had told her that the best long-lasting curses were those that were sworn on the family magic. So, even if it could look like that muggle thing, it was not.

It wasn't as if Hariel was going to start talking magic with a muggle in the same compartment as her.

She actually looked at him for a moment and he seemed to be napping, fedora hiding his eyes.

"Sure, but I am going to get revenge. Whatever you say or do."

"Oh, alright," Hermione sounded resigned to a good prank. "But will you tell me about your trip?"

"It's been less than an hour Mione," she moaned because really…

"Well, what about your compartment partner? Have you met them? I hope whoever they are nice."

"It's an old lady with a cat," Harry deadpanned, looking at the man and then at the cute Chameleon.

"Oh, Harry, and we all thought you were getting better at lying. That was deplorable. I give you a T.

"Oi!," she said, "It was not that bad, I at least deserve an A."

"No, you really don't," And did she sound primp about it, Hariel rolled her eyes at her friends' antics. "Now tell me the truth."

"Alright, a man, mid-twenties maybe, very rude," she started listing with her fingers. "Has an adorable chameleon called Leon, but didn't want to sell it to me. Um, you know, he's probably Italian and is pretending to be asleep right now.

Even after her words were uttered, the man didn't move. He was good, really good.

"Well, maybe he was rude because you tried to buy his pet?" Hermione sounded even slightly indignant on the behalf of the supposed hitman.

"No, he was rude before. That's why I tried to protect Leon. From him. You know how I feel about mistreated animals."

Hermione sighed very loudly. The nerve.

"Well, anything more?" she asked, like a dog with a bone.

"Ugh, Mione," she growled. "He's a Scorpio, his favorite color is black, and likes to read steamy romance novels in his time off."

"Hariel, stop. Alright. I will stop pestering you, but please stop insulting random people, especially if they are hearing you," she said, and Hariel could imagine her rubbing her temples. Ha! That's what she got for the phone felony. "I will let you rest, and please remember to follow my guide when you are out, and take a lot of pictures and," Harry pressed the red button and the call ended.

That farewell would have gone for hours if she had to listen again for the twentieth time. It was like her friends didn't trust her judgment, honestly!

The phone was going to go and start screeching around again, she could feel it.

So, she opened the nearest window which was a bit hard and chucked the pink monstrosity off. After all, if you threatened someone with something and didn't follow up, the threats became empty.

And everyone knew that Hariel "Harry" Jamie Potter-Black did not bluff.

Thank you for reviewing, they are very much appreciated!