Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Katekyo Hitman Reborn and I don't earn any money with this story.

Author's note: Hello again :) Thank you very much for your reviews and the guesses. It was very interesting to read your guesses! In this chapter the plot thickens some more.
Still looking for a beta reader btw, so please drop me a message if you're interested.

Rating: M

Warning: None

Beta'd by the lovely NonchalantxFish, thank you very much :)

When Reborn entered the safe manor 's (in no way was this a simple house ) dining room the next morning, deliberately late in order to minimise the contact with certain individuals, his eyes fell on Shamal and the red-headed twins. Despite sitting at different spots around the table, they had one thing in common – all three of them were laughing. Not the amused or gloating sort, though. It was the desperate type resulting from either laughing gas or an unrelenting tickling attack. While some of the spectators were calmly eating their breakfast, completely ignoring the spectacle, others were watching with morbid curiosity. Nobody was protesting.

"Ciaossu, what's up with them?" Reborn inquired as he hopped onto one of the empty chairs. The two teens he'd shot at the previous day were side-eyeing him warily, but continued to eat (or rather shovel food into their mouths in the boy's case), whereas their mother was glaring daggers at him. Whatever.

"They're reaping what they've sown," Harry explained nonchalantly, before calmly eating another forkful of scrambled eggs. Reborn turned back to the display of low-key torture and nodded approvingly. Not too offensive for the soft-hearted people, who were bound to be in the room despite the current war, but effective anyway. Even Shamal, who was able to withstand painful torture wasn't immune to tickling , it appeared. This choice of retribution deserved full marks.

"And what exactly did they sow? I can well imagine what happened when it comes to Shamal, but are you really punishing those two for the way they carried you?" The hitman wondered, smirking, as he remembered several statements from the previous afternoon and night.

"Not really. Your guess is also probably wrong. To everyone's surprise, Shamal actually kept his hands to himself and I'm resigned to those two carrying me around however they want while I'm unconscious. It is my fault for constantly giving them the chance to do it." The brunet sighed and grasped his wand when the laughing turned into slightly panicked gasping. A flick of his wrist later, the three sagged towards the table, trying to regain their breath. "No, Fred and George tried to ambush me this morning. With this." The brunet pulled a red dog collar out of his pocket and twirled it around his index finger. The tag attached to it spelled F&G in gold-coloured letters.

Reborn stared at the thing for a long moment, wondering why Harry hadn't maintained the spell a little bit longer.

"And Shamal?" The Acrobaleno just couldn't picture him participating in such a prank, no matter that he'd been the instigator of the idea. Maybe that was it? Maybe Harry was punishing him for giving the twins ideas?

"I'm innocent!" Shamal defended himself indignantly - but still a bit breathless - and drilled holes into his Sky with the power of his glare.

Harry glared right back.

"Innocent my arse!" the brunet growled, easily ignoring the rebukes for swearing. "You tried to sic Monika at me, when I dodged George's stunning spell! And then you slipped away, when that didn't work!"

"I was just trying to make sure that your reflexes were still up to par!" Shamal retorted sulkily and Reborn… stood corrected. Apparently the man had participated in the prank. A change he hadn't expected to be honest.

"A collar, how plebeian," a deep voice sneered from the doorway. "You should have applied a tethering spell."

Harry, whose face had lit up in relief upon seeing Snape, burrowed his face in his hands and groaned.

"It's a conspiracy! Everyone is ganging up on me..." Suddenly, the brunet yanked up his head and zeroed in on a certain witch, who was sitting at the other end of the table.

"Hey, Hermione, let's leave everyone behind and search for the remaining Horcruxes on our own. We could ask Blaise, too, take one of the tents with us. I bet it would be epic ."

"Yeah, sure," the brunette muttered, not looking up from the book she was reading. "And then we'll ride into the sunset on a unicorn."

"Hm... We could try our luck with the ones in the Forbidden Forest, but I'd prefer an abraxan. Do you think all three of us would fit on just one?"

Hermione huffed, but finally raised her gaze from the tome in front of her. As it fell on Reborn, the exasperated expression slipped off her face and was replaced by eagerness. In no time, she was out of her seat, rummaging through the bag that had been hanging from her chair. Reborn gave her points for not tripping over her feet while approaching him.

"I found that notebook I've been telling you about," the brunette explained as she finally pulled a leather-bound book out and offered it to the hitman. "I skimmed it and it mostly reads like a diary, but it also contains theories and the ritual they used. I'm not an expert by any means, but as far as I can tell the theory behind the ritual is sound. The most likely reason why it ended in disaster is the lack of power that went into it, which means the connection between the Acrobaleno and the pacifier didn't break completely and led to a backlash."

For a long moment Reborn stared at the unexpected source of information in his hands, utterly speechless. His mind felt both blank and like his thoughts were spinning out of control at the same time.

"Could it be adjusted?" His voice came out surprisingly strong for feeling so faint. Reborn tugged the front of his fedora deeper to cover his expression in shadows anyway. His poker face was crumbling under the onslaught of hope and apprehension.

"I can't promise anything," the brunette conceded carefully. "But if experts were to check it and make adjustments, it could be doable. The problem is… we don't have the resources at the moment. The appropriate people are either somewhere in hiding or busy with war-related tasks."

A hand settled on his shoulder and without looking, Reborn knew it belonged to Harry.

"We'll figure something out after dealing with V, I promise."

Reborn… decided to believe him, even though he'd only known the brunet for a few days. Maybe it was foolish, maybe he'd end up gutted, but he'd chance it anyway.

"Can't you just use that fire thing if nothing else works?" Shamal inquired with a long-suffering sigh. His fingers were twitching every other minute and Reborn bet the former hitman was dying for a smoke after all the time they had spent trying to open the casket. He could relate somewhat, because a certain notebook was waiting for him upstairs in his guestroom in Rose Cottage.

"Fiendfyre?" Snape frowned, but the lines on his forehead seemed more contemplative than dismissive. "Perhaps. Making sure that it is indeed the diadem would be preferable however."

"X-Ray scans?" Spanner drawled languidly, half slumped over the table top.

"Do you have something suitable in that workshop of yours, kid?"

The blond shrugged.

"Not yet, but I can build it. Shouldn't be too hard."

"Let's put the diadem on the backburner for now, then. We still have to deal with another two Horcuxes anyway," Harry suggested and unceremoniously shoved the casket into the box that allegedly dampened its negative effects. "The cup and Nagini."

"Trying to break into Gringotts was a disaster ," Shamal muttered, agitatedly carding his fingers through his hair until a few strands stuck out. "I got almost barbecued by that damn dragon."

"I'm still surprised we got out alive," Harry agreed with a grimace. "They've probably added even more security measures by now."

"Which means we need Bellatrix Lestrange after all. Assuming the cup is even in her vault anymore." Snape mused .

"Except she always slips away before we can hit her with an Imperius or something. For having so many screws loose, she's surprisingly good at evading us." Harry grumbled. "I wish we still had a way to get into Malfoy Manor. Getting to her would be easier. That house elf ward sucks ."

"I assume," Reborn, who'd silently watched until now, started, "that another ward and additional security measures prevent you from getting into said manor, correct?"

He received four more or less disgruntled nods.

"I doubt the security is failsafe. No security is failsafe, especially when the intruder happens to be a skilled hitman with an unconventional body height," Reborn alluded, his eyes glinting with determination. This went beyond making sure his protégée survived a war and assumed his position as Vongola Decimo. The sooner the enemy was destroyed, the sooner everyone would be able to focus on breaking his curse.

After a long pause, Harry hesitantly leant forward.

"I think I have an idea. It wouldn't work for any of us, but Reborn might be able to pull it off. "

Shamal groaned in response.

"I don't know how, but I bet it involves you getting into trouble."

"Doesn't it always?" Spanner sighed, crunching down on his lolly. All three of Harry's Guardians shared a long-suffering look.

"We should think about that tether spell, after all."

A few hours later, Reborn entered Spanner's workshop for the first time. It was time to get some damn answers to his questions.

Comparing the workshop to a scrapyard wouldn't be too far off. Every surface of the room was covered in materials, tools or half-finished inventions. The only exception was a single shelf on the wall, which displayed a robot plushie encased with protective glass. Once upon a time its head had come off if the clumsy stitching on its 'neck' was any indication, but otherwise it looked well cared for.

"What do you want?"

Reborn turned around to the blond he'd sought out and briefly eyed the device he was fiddling with; probably the X-ray unit they'd been talking about.

"I require some information," Reborn demanded with his 'and you better give it to me or else' voice as he cocked his gun for additional incentive. The teen glanced at the weapon apprehensively, but in the next moment he was staring back at him stubbornly, willing to take him on or die trying.

"You want to know who Harry's childhood friend is. He figured you might try to confront me about it." The blond nervously tugged a wrench-shaped lolly out of the pocket of his coveralls and shoved it into his mouth. "He doesn't want me to tell you, but…"

After a moment, Reborn slowly engaged the safety of the gun and reluctantly waited out Spanner's stalling in form of fiddling with a screwdriver. The hitman wasn't even surprised that the Sky had figured out his next step.

"I don't know how much Harry told you but… he was really devastated. Back then. Grandpa tried to reason with those people, but that didn't work too well. He also got some of his contacts on board, influential people, but they couldn't really do anything, either." He stopped his fiddling and looked Reborn dead in the eye. "Still sure you'll make a difference?"

The hitman scoffed.

"Of course I am." But he really wanted to know just who those 'influential people' were, who that boy was. The heir of a don? The offspring of a politician? "I have my ways of convincing people. Also, Harry's in a different position than back then."

"I doubt his connection to the Vongola will help you," Spanner snorted and ripped a piece of paper out of a notepad. "On the contrary, it'll probably complicate things, but be my guest and try your luck," After scribbling down whatever information he had, the blond paused, but didn't look up. "Just… don't tell Harry until you're sure that it'll work out."

Finally, he slid the paper scrap over and went back to his tinkering.

Reborn picked it up, took in the name and cursed.