CHAPTER 5:
ACCLIMATION
Harry had to admit it, at least in hindsight, but in the months since his rescue, he was going through the motions of life somewhat. Oh, he was grateful to Pamela for giving him a place to stay, and to Hermione and Luna for giving him money and identity papers under the name of Harry 'Hal' Wilmore, a reference to The Count of Monte Cristo(1) (Luna's suggestion, Harry Snyder-Cutler, was vetoed, despite her saying something about 'releasing the Snyder Cut', whatever the hell that meant). But despite Pamela saying it was the first day of the rest of his life, he felt like his life was over. He just hadn't stopped breathing yet.
It wasn't that Pamela treated him badly. Far from it. Aside from her habit of killing polluters, he actually agreed with her on a number of issues, and the two got along well. It didn't hurt that she was as devastatingly beautiful as she was devastatingly intelligent, and yet had a casual, sarcastic and bitter veneer that was oddly endearing, and mirrored his own attitudes to the world.
It surprised him how…casual one of Gotham's most infamous supervillains treated him. True, they had known each other since childhood, even if it wasn't for that long, but she was also an infamous criminal. But if it weren't for that, and the green skin, and the florokinesis, she seemed like a normal, if bitter and snarky, young woman. In fact, it was safe to say that, despite their differences, they became fairly close friends fairly swiftly, building on the foundation of their childhood meeting and correspondence. It helped that, given his framing by Ginnymort, he was a wanted criminal himself, with little hope of exoneration.
Hermione and Luna visited often, with Delphi. Oddly enough, Voldemort's daughter had wormed her way into his heart. And they'd given him phones, including a main phone and some burners.
But he was still just going through the motions. He was shambling through life as a zombie of himself. And it came to a head one night, a few weeks after he came into Pamela's life...
"…What the hell is that accent?" Harry said flatly as he stared at the TV news, showing a muscled man who looked somewhere between a gimp and a luchador.
"What, you mean Bane's accent? Hell if I know," Pamela said with a shrug. "My personal hypothesis is that the Venom he uses to enhance his strength gave him brain damage. It'd explain why at times, he's pretty smart, and at other times, he's pretty silly and childish. Still, he's one of the few on the Legion of Doom I have any time for. He's a nice guy if you don't piss him off. Actually, what happened to him makes what happened to us look like a cakewalk."
"…Really?" Harry asked sceptically.
"He was born into prison in Santa Prisca. And he lived in that prison, because his father fled the country before he could be sentenced. Bane was basically made to serve his father's life sentence, and Santa Prisca's not far from Corto Maltese in the Top 10 Shitholes of the area, especially where the judicial system is concerned. Magical Britain has a shitty legal system, but have they ever sent a baby to Azkaban for their parents' crimes?"
"They probably would've done it to Delphi had they known about her," Harry said bitterly.
"…I know this is uncharacteristically optimistic of me, but I think that's a line they wouldn't cross," Pamela said. "Anyway, Bane became a vicious prisoner, and that's how he got his name, because the warden called him a bane of everything holy. He trained himself up in prison, both in mind and body, but the warden, hoping to kill off a threat to his power, volunteered him for some experiments into a Venom-delivery system. Bane survived that, escaped, and, well, here he is. I am abridging things somewhat, but I've got the essential parts down."
Harry chuckled morosely. "Merlin…another one with a fucked-up childhood."
"So? It doesn't make you a supervillain. I mean, look at Bruce Wayne. His parents were murdered when he was a kid, and, well, look at him now. Okay, he's a manwhore, but honestly, the guy puts his money where his mouth is when it comes to charity shit. He's also more serious about environmental issues than LexCorp or Stagg Industries, and believe me, I've done very thorough research. Guy should thank me for ridding him of some of his competitors…annnd you're crying again. Here, let it all out."
She hugged him as he sobbed quietly. "…Hermione once told me I had a saving people thing. And yet, after all that, they just…they just…"
"I know. I know. You got burned, by those inbred retards, and by Ginnymort. You've lost your zest for life, joie de vivre, I think the French call it. Or is that raison d'etre, your reason for being? But you also pretty much got railroaded into becoming a hero thanks to that whole Boy Who Lived bullshit. I'm not saying that you shouldn't be a hero, heaven knows you'd be a better kind of hero than the Batman, but like Hermione said, he's a territorial dick. But neither should you be like…well, like me. I do what I do because…nobody else will."
"…But I couldn't save you."
He didn't know why those words came from his mouth, but Pamela looked at him in surprise. "Sorry, what?"
"…I should have done more. I mean, your parents treated you like shit, Woodrue messed you up, and…"
"Jesus H Christ, you have a hell of a guilt complex, you know that?" Pamela cut him short. She looked at him, a stern rebuke mixing with sympathy in her eyes. "Harry, I won't deny that what my parents did to me, what Woodrue did to me, what all those people did to me, made me what I am. But in the end, I made the decision to become what I am. I may not have had much choice, let alone being sane enough to make an informed decision, but…I can't go back and change it. And in the end, despite my being seen as a supervillain, despite having done some really shitty things…I'd like to think that I've actually done some good to the world."
"But…"
"Hang on, let me finish. Would I have loved someone to save me, in hindsight? Someone who gave a damn? Hell yeah. My life could be so much better than this, I could be doing environmental advocacy that doesn't end with someone dead. I could be helping re-forest the Amazon or Borneo, helping crops grow for developing nations…but I can't. Not that I haven't tried, but the moment I turn up, they scream, 'Oh shit, it's Poison Ivy, she's come to kill us all!' That kinda puts a dampener on things. On the bright side, I've learned how to scream in fear in at least a dozen different languages. Terry Pratchett had the right idea when he said that's important(2)."
Harry, despite himself, couldn't help but laugh at her rendition of those people fearing her. "I suppose it would. I remember when Hogwarts thought I was the Heir of Slytherin. Arseholes."
"Anyway…this is my life now. I've got to make the best of it, and regrets won't change a damn thing. But you already helped me, Harry. You may not have exactly saved me, and frankly, trying to do that is at Shirou Emiya levels of boneheadedness…"
"Who?"
"Oh, right, I'll pull up Fate/Stay Night: Unlimited Blade Works on streaming for you one day. I like it, it's one of the few anime series I do. Shirou reminds me a little of you. But back to the topic at hand…remember, Harry, what you did for me when we were twelve. You told me that I was pretty. You were the first person to do so. You showed me kindness, showed me that, even despite my experiences so far, there was at least one person who could accept me for who and what I am. And that's saving me, even if it was in a small way. Harley also saved me from myself, before the Joker fucked her over."
"She was a good friend to you, wasn't she? Better than I was…"
"Uh, excuse me? Stop trying to start up the pity party again, okay? And honestly, if it weren't for Ginnymort, I reckon you would have been as good a friend. Though the way she is now…I'm seriously considering an intervention. She needs a good shock to the system to realise the Joker basically views her as a sextoy and a decoy, not as a potential equal and lover. At least Mr Freeze loves his wife, even when she's a popsicle. But I don't know who's worse in the misogyny stakes, the Joker or Dr Psycho."
"Who?"
"That dwarf with the psychic powers we saw on the news a few nights ago. Bit of a misogynist, to say the least, and rumour has it that he brainwashed his wife into loving him," Pamela said. "Anyway…I sort of got away from my point. You've done a lot of good, even if it was for ungrateful bastards. And you did something good for me. Hell, you still are. Just by being here, by giving a damn about me despite what I've become…I'm actually liking it, Harry. You're my friend, Harry, I am not ashamed to say that, and honestly, you're better than I fucking deserve. Hell, I'm actually enjoying having Hermione and Luna as friends, and Delphi's a little bundle of sarcastic joy. If it weren't for you, I'd never have met them, well, in person, anyway. Luna reminds me a little of Harley if she was, well, less of a martyr to love, and honestly, she and Kite Man seem made for each other. And Hermione…you know how long it has been since I could talk to someone about botany and toxicology on my level? Jonathan Crane doesn't count, he seems to only give a fuck about his Fear Toxin, and he's a creepy little fuck even when he's being nice."
Harry nodded. It actually surprised him that Hermione, with all her authority worship, would work with criminals as an information broker, even if she also sold information to the Justice League and the police as well. She pointed out that her authority worship had begun to die after she learned of Dumbledore's manipulations, and finally expired when Kingsley Shacklebolt turned his back on Harry, instead claiming he needed to be hunted down as a remnant of Voldemort. It didn't help that she, along with Luna, had to flee Britain after adopting Delphi. Apparently Andromeda Tonks and Teddy were living in Metropolis, citing it as (relatively) safer than Gotham.
One thing he was doing to relieve his boredom was reading Pamela's old textbooks. He was enjoying reading about toxicology, especially now that he had been a Basilisk for several years. Most of the stuff went over his head, he didn't have as much of an education as Hermione or Pamela did, but he was grasping other stuff quickly. And one undeniable virtue that Pamela had that Hermione didn't was that she wasn't as bossy, at least as far as intelligence was concerned. She would have made a good teacher, Harry reckoned, and a good scientist.
"Anyway…if you need to get your 'helping people' thing on, you're helping me just by being here," Pamela said. "Giving me a sense of normality…well, as much as it can be when I'm part-plant, you're a wizard, and we're both not exactly liked by the authorities. Normal is boring, but normality…sometimes, you just need it, to stay remotely sane. Besides, I wouldn't want you to get caught up in the world of supervillains."
"But…I need to do something. I can't just sit here and be your house-husband for the rest of our lives."
"And I agree. I like having you here to help, but you've got the potential to be so much more. And I'll try to help you find it…"
"I don't know how I'll help him find it."
To her credit, Hermione didn't laugh. Instead, she nodded, sipping at her tea. The pair of them were meeting at a discreet café that was basically the café equivalent of Noonan's Bar. Not a dive, rather, a sort of neutral ground for those involved in shady businesses to talk shop. "At least you're there for him. Leaving him alone when he needs someone was a mistake I made before."
"Really?" Pamela asked. "I thought you two were close."
"Yes, but I was still going through my authority worship thing, and whatever Dumbledore said, I tended to obey, because he was Dumbledore. He told you about Voldemort's resurrection after the Tri-Wizard Tournament, right? How he saw Cedric Diggory die in front of him? He probably didn't tell you I was told to keep him out of the loop during the following summer, and eventually not even communicate with him. Dumbledore told us it was to give him time to mourn, and to avoid him learning about the smear campaign the Ministry of Magic was mounting against him. And like an idiot, I listened to him. In hindsight, I think Dumbledore was torn between making Harry into a weapon and trying, and failing miserably, to let him have a normal life. Not telling Dumbledore to sod off and actually being there for Harry is one of the biggest regrets in my life."
"He still speaks highly of you, and Luna for that matter. And Ron's murder haunts him. Hermione, how the actual fuck do I help him find a reason to live again? He's hit rock bottom, and I don't want him to follow me, or anyone else, into this life."
"…Honestly, if I heard myself saying this ten years ago, younger me would have disowned older me," Hermione said. "But I have to ask…is that at all a bad thing?"
"What? You can't be serious."
"I am." Hermione's brown eyes bore into Pamela's own. "Pamela, out of all the supervillains in Gotham City, the ones that I would trust with Harry's life and sanity, I could count on one hand. Admittedly, I didn't really know that you were the same Pamela Harry was penpals with all those years ago, but…you fight for a cause. Most of your victims deserved it, and honestly, after Dr Quinzel's therapy sessions with you, your killing of innocents has gone down to, if not nil, then not far from it. Most of those deaths have been Arkham guards, and most of those are corrupt ex-GCPD officers Gordon kicked out anyway. Despite being a misanthropic eco-terrorist, you actually have a heart. Now, if Harry became a supervillain…what would you see him doing?"
"…I honestly don't know."
"I don't either, but I have a slight inkling. He's damaged goods, he's broken, and he's had a wakeup call where dealing with enemies is concerned. But he remains a good person. He'd be closer to a vigilante."
"Maybe…but I don't want the cops coming for him and taking away one of the few good things of my life. Just…promise me this. If something goes wrong on one of my jobs, and I get sent to Arkham…make sure he doesn't come after me, try to break me out. I'll try to make him clear about that, but…"
"I'll try to ensure he's kept out of too much trouble. Which reminds me, I've compiled a list of plastic surgeons for Harry, to remove his scar at least…"
"…Actually, have you asked him whether he wants to?"
Hermione frowned, before shaking her head. "He is a wanted fugitive, and the less distinctive marks, the better. I'm also getting contact lenses to help conceal his eyes. We've enchanted his glasses to conceal them, but…"
"Well, I think that should be fine, but again, talk to him about it. Besides, I actually like the scar. It's very distinctive. Can't you find some magic stuff that conceals it in public?"
"…I'll see what I can do." Hermione smiled. "You really do like him, don't you?"
Pamela opened her mouth to retort, before thinking better of it. "He's a friend," she conceded. "A better friend than I really deserve."
"I know. I feel the same way."
Pamela frowned as she noticed Hermione's wistful look. "So, you two were…?"
"What, I wanted to be with him? No. That ship has sailed anyway. We're more like siblings. Actually, I've been seeing Rolf Scamander. You wouldn't know him, but Luna introduced him to me. A magizoologist. It's tough doing a long-distance relationship, but we're managing. And I only really started shortly before you found Harry. I…I missed Ron, despite all his flaws, and to be frank, he had a lot. But his death…I'm sorry, I…"
"No, sorry for bringing it up, even if only indirectly. What happened to both of you was pretty shitty. Don't get me wrong, I'll do what I can to help him, and I know you will too…but sooner or later, he needs to find a reason to live again. I just hope it isn't the wrong one, like me."
"Pamela, there are worse things to live for than you."
Pamela shot her a look over her mug of coffee. "I'm an eco-terrorist who had fucked men over in the past in the same way Ginnymort did."
"And you recognise that."
"And I'm also a wanted criminal."
"So was Harry's godfather, or Harry himself."
"Yeah, but they were fucking framed!" Pamela snapped, before grimacing. "Sorry, I'm right, but I didn't need to snap at you like that. But most of the crimes I have been imprisoned for, I actually did, and of my own free will. I'm only shoved into Arkham partly because Gotham's legislation is weird and archaic, especially where legal definitions of sanity and culpability are concerned, and partly because Blackgate doesn't really have the facilities to deal with people like me or Freeze. I am NOT a good person to look to as an example of good life choices."
"…You're better than you think you are, Pamela."
"Hermione, don't take this the wrong way, as I think you're nicer than I deserve, but you're delusional. I'm not a good person. Harry is. And I'll be damned if he follows in my footsteps…"
CHAPTER 5 ANNOTATIONS:
Some more angst from Harry and Ivy, but the first steps in their relationship have been taken.
1. Lord Wilmore was an English aristocrat who was one of Edmond Dantes' aliases other than the Count of Monte Cristo himself.
2. Something brought up in the Discworld novel Interesting Times. Rincewind knows that screaming the wrong way in another language can actually mean 'Highly enjoyable', 'Your wife is a hippo', 'I'd like to eat your foot', and, in a language of a tribe that got a wholly undeserved reputation for cruelty, 'Quick! More boiling oil!'.