Harry woke up to something that sounded like Jerry Springer in his hotel room. He groggily sat up and looked over the balcony at the rest of the room. He saw Rome sitting the couch cackling. "Why'd you kidnap me!"

"Shut up Harry and get down here, I ordered bakfast!"

Harry trotted down the stairs and sat down in front of the tv. "Whatcha watchin'?"

"Jerry Springer, my daughters a teenage slut."

Harry couldn't surprise his own cackles as he started to attack the pancakes. "Why are you here?"

"I'm taking you to see the Don, if I'm going to take care of you, you need to join the mob!"

"Mob?" Harry sniggered.

"Mob, gang, same thing." Rome waved a hand he lanced down to Harry's hands where were stabbing pancakes and shoving them in his mouth "Can you possibly use a knife?"

"No."

An hour later they were both dressed in suits and in a taxi. Harry couldn't stop fidgeting. Rome just smirked at the boys nervousness. The cab let them of and Rome paid him.

"Now Harry, do not lie to the Don. He knows…I think he's psychic or something, just be honest and remember, play to your skills." Rome said, gripping his shoulders.

"But…" Harry drifted off and ran after Rome, who'd vanished through a door. They went down three flights of stairs until they reached something that looked like a club. Two men guarded the door with very big guns.

"Morning Rome." One of them said.

"Whose the kid?"

"New meat." Rome smirked and all three men laughed. Harry just glared. The two doors swung open to reveal a long hall lined with weapons and Harry was shell shocked. "Well pick something Harry."

"I've never used a gun before."

Rome rolled his eyes. "It's just like aiming a spell, just adjust your body and think where you want it to go." He selected a black belt with two slim black guns enamled in red and handed it to Harry. The boy fumbled with it before tying it around his hips. He felt a little bulky with the new weight on his hips, but he followed Rome anyway.

"Rome, these are heavy!"

"You get used to it, Harry." Rome dropped back and wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders. "Don't worry, be confident, but not cocky, okay? Don't fumble with your pants." Harry's fingers dropped to his sides. "And relax, your James' son, he's a legend around here!"

"Why the hell does everyone know me because of my damn parents!" Harry snarled. "No one knows me, just my scar!"

Rome grinned at Harry's outburst. "Your more like Sirius then James, You may have Lily's eyes, but you have Sirius sparkle. The Don'll love that."

Harry finally grinned. Rome flung open a door to reveal a red room, with black furniture and several people milling around. "My Donyness, sir." Rome teased with an elaborate bow

"Goof."

Harry's gaze darted to the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Her hair was like pure gold, that fell in perfectly tousled curls around her oval face. Her eyes were dark blue, and gorgeous and deep. Her lips were pouty, but not overdone. She looked at him and those eyes widened, and then she started to laugh.

"Rome quit being an idiot." A deep voice said from the couch.

"Sorry Your Donliness, but I would like to introduce you to Mr. Harry Potter."

Harry stepped forward and tried not to fiddle with his pants.

"Did you select those guns yourself Mr. Potter?" The man had a slight English accent.

"No, Sir, Rome did." Harry paused and considered Rome's words. "Be honest". "But I'm starting to like them a lot."

"Do you like the colors?"

"Yeah…it's a very gothic combination." Harry winced, knowing the answer was bad.

"How old are you kid?"

"Sixteen."

"Your James' son."

"Yes Sir." Harry nodded.

"You look a lot like him…Mr. Black was your god father."

"He was."

"Did you like your god father?"

"He meant the world to me and I would kill to have him back." Harry didn't even think, he just blurted it out. He thought he saw a flash of pearl white teeth from the dark patch on the couch. The Don liked honesty and passion.

"And what do you think of Hogwarts?"

"It's stupid. I hate it there, the people are immature idiots who won't even Say the name Voldemort. And the entire wizarding world thinks I'm supposed to kill Voldemort. They believe in some old crackpot witches prophecies and I don't give a damn!" Harry took a deep breath at the end of his rant.

The Don laughed. "I like you kid, you got that spark. Now…Can you fire a gun."

"No."

"Try."

A target man popped up from the floor and Harry glanced at Rome who nodded. The raven haired boy took his gun from it's holister and placed his fingers on the trigger. He positioned his body sideways so his body was directly facing the Don, but he was looking at the target. He pressed his finger down on the trigger and was prepared for the whiplash, a wand did the same thing.

The shot hit the man right in the heart. Everyone was silent for a moment before the Don ordered. "Do it again."

Harry shot again and this time the bullet went through the head. "Did I do something wrong."

"Your good kid." The Don laughed. "Come here."

Harry walked over.

"Show me your wrists."

Harry hesitantly rolled up his sleeves and exposed the inside of his wrists where the cuts were. The Don's hands shout out and grabbed Harry's wrist. This man had very big hands. The Don was a very powerful man….and a tall one, Harry decided.

"They've scarred…and pretty badly." The Don remarked. "Very nicely scarred though." He let Harry go. "Look kid, some things gotta change. First that scar on your forehead. Doyle."

A young dark haired man walked over to the couch. "Yeah boss?"

"Can we get the forehead scar removed?"

"You can get rid of it!" Harry gasped in awe. The beautiful girl giggled. Doyle examined his scar.

"Totally removable," Doyle nodded. "The wrists however are too deeply scarred. There's scarring in his nerves."

"The wrists are fine," The Don nodded. "Kid Doyle's a wizard. He takes care of the reapers when we get banged up, he's going to fix you up, when you come back we'll make the final decision."

Harry followed Doyle out. "So how long will it take to remove?"

"Eh…fifteen minutes or so."

"Fifteen minutes!" Harry gasped. "Why didn't anyone tell me that!" He snarled.

"Because, you're the boy who lived, ya gotta have that scar." Doyle grinned, his warm brown eyes also sparkled.

"Well fuck it I don't want to be the boy who lived. I'm Harry Potter." Harry announced and Doyle laughed.

"You're gonna do okay kid."