CHAPTER 7:

TAKING A CHANCE

"Okay, this shit is…well, it's not actually impossible, I am seeing it, but it should be!"

Harry stifled a snicker at Pamela's outburst. It'd been a little over two months since she first let him work with her on her capers, even at one remove (and thus four months after they were first reunited), and the two were getting more and more comfortable around each other. He'd been gradually becoming, if not his old self again, then at least happier than he was.

It didn't hurt that he and Pamela were growing ever closer.

Hell, they even went out on…well, dates, for want of a better term. Pamela didn't deny it, they just didn't make a big fuss about it. Then again, considering that they were both wanted criminals, making a fuss would be counterproductive.

Who would've thought that a chance encounter so many years ago would sow the seeds of something more? True, they weren't sure whether to call it love, as both had been burned and badly by those they held dear, and they were understandably wary, circling each other like wolves around a kill. Pamela cited something called the Hedgehog's Dilemma, a concept discussed by Schopenhauer, and popularised by the Neon Genesis Evangelion anime. And yet, there was a genuine attraction and desire, and the wariness, ironically, had them building a stronger foundation to their relationship first.

They bared their hearts to each other, learning of their greatest fears and worries. They encouraged each other, became more comfortable around each other. It was a slow process, but all the more rewarding for it. Hell, she helped him learn how to transform into a Basilisk voluntarily, rather than being forced to via potion. And out of curiosity, she'd milked his venom, albeit after consulting Hermione and Luna first, to ensure she could store it properly. Pamela's current outburst was due to her analysing Basilisk venom in a small laboratory Sy Borgman had provided for her (as long as she, in his words, didn't try to pretend to be Heisenberg from Breaking Bad).

She was glaring at him. "It's not funny!"

"Pamela, you're a Metahuman with a connection to the Green and you're immune to most if not all poisons. I am a wizard who can change into a magical snake. We live in a world filled with people with magical or bizarre abilities, including magic users, demons, and actual aliens. This city is patrolled by a vigilante who dresses himself up in bat-themed body armour, and yet, my Animagus form's venom is what gets you?"

"Yes!" Pamela snapped. "Look, magic, as far as I am concerned, is a type of Metahuman ability that hasn't been properly quantified yet. Arthur C Clarke should have also said that any sufficiently advanced ability may be indistinguishable from magic, and Hermione agrees with me. If it's passed down genetically, then it has a basis in reality, like a more varied form of psychokinesis. It just needs more analysis. But this…this is fucking ridiculous!"

"Okay…explain it to me. I know I've been learning toxicology, but imagine you're talking to a layman."

Pamela took a calming breath, before running a hand through her hair. "…Okay. I literally do not understand how this shit remains potent enough mixed together. Now, snake venoms in general can be made of a large variety of proteins that cause different effects. That, I have no issue with, it's normal, it seems like something like a magical snake would have. It seems to have a mixture of neurotoxins and myotoxins, in a way that's weird for snakes, but honestly, that doesn't surprise me. The first part that surprises me is the bufotoxins mixed in."

"Bufo-what?"

"Toad poison. You'd expect the stuff I found to be in toad's poison glands and even in some mushrooms, but in a snake?"

"…Now that I come to think about it, supposedly, a Basilisk is created by putting a chicken egg beneath a toad. I imagine there'd be more to the process than that, but…"

"That's just ridiculous. There'd have to be a spell involved, to say nothing of some sort of snake," Pamela said. "Many of the toxins are either recognisably that of a snake's, or similar enough as to make no odds. But the most ridiculous thing is yet to come, namely its pH."

"pH?" Harry echoed. "You mean whether it's an acid or a base?"

"It's definitely an acid. I dunno what it doesn't dissolve, but not much."

"I think I tried dissolving the cage I was in at the Bennet estate, but it only did a small amount of damage," Harry said. "I think Ginnymort created the cage. But I think the venom can dissolve a lot."

"And that's what pisses me off. I'm not sure what the acid is yet, I had to dilute it enough to avoid it damaging any container I put it in, but the chemical structure I have discerned so far suggests that it should denature just about any protein immersed in it. In layman's terms, it means that the protein toxins in the venom shouldn't work, being dissolved or at least deactivated by the acid. But they're not! Ugh! All I can tell you for sure is what wizards know already, that its LD50 is yes. As in any idiot who gets injected with this will die, unless they have Phoenix Tears on hand. I mean, poison immunity is pretty much my thing, and I don't want to get this shit in me."

"And yet, I'm still alive. I mean, aside from Fawkes saving me with his tears, a Basilisk must be able to withstand the venom."

Pamela pinched the bridge of her nose. "…Fuck it, I'm out. I'll work on this later. I am so over this fucking insanity…"

As they re-entered her apartment, Harry asked, "Why are you so annoyed about it anyway? I mean, your pheromones act almost like magic. Seriously, from what I understand of the field, pheromones normally don't act like an instant mind-control drug."

"Yes, but they're also produced by my own body. I've also been studying them since I was in university. I'm still figuring out exactly how they are so effective, and honestly, my hypothesis is that part of it is due to my connection to the Green. It basically gives the victim a backdoor to the Green, a bit like how some malware can open up a backdoor in a computer. It's why some variants of my refined pheromones can turn people into plants. And even then, the full mechanism eludes me, and that pisses me off something fierce. I am a scientist. I won't dispute the existence of magic and the Green, but I want explanations for them."

"God, you're so much like Hermione when she gets a bee in her bonnet about something," Harry said with a chuckle.

"Well, Hermione and I agree on a number of things, including the sheer ridiculousness of this world! Ugh! And then there's that little hellion Delphi. She's like Robin if that brat was smarter and more precocious."

"And you love her anyway, don't you? I know I certainly do, and I thought I'd never say that about any hellspawn between Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange."

"…Yeah." Pamela turned to him and smiled. "You're smiling a lot more now. Seriously, I can't believe having you as my accomplice helped this much."

Harry found it hard to believe too. True, it was a bit of a 180 compared to what he did before, what he intended to do with his life, becoming an Auror. And yet…this was a time in his life when he actually had more choice in what to do with his life. Not much, considering he was a wanted fugitive, but still, if Ginnymort did him one undeniable favour, it was freeing him from the mephitic reputation of being the Boy Who Lived.

Even after Voldemort's death, that title shackled him, along with the expectations made of him. It didn't help that Ginnymort had potioned him, taking away his choice. And that was the thing, wasn't it? Dumbledore claimed that Harry had a choice whether to confront Voldemort, but Harry had had no choice, thanks to Voldemort's fixation on his demise, not to mention Dumbledore's manipulations.

But even as a wanted fugitive, ironically, he now had choices, more than before. With Hermione and Luna's help, he could have left Gotham and started up anew. He could have gone back to Britain, sought out Ginnymort, and took his well-deserved revenge. He could have even tried to approach the Justice League and join them: surely one of them would listen to his story and work to exonerate him?

But he chose to be with Pamela. She'd shown him kindness when few others did. She didn't hide what she was: a bitter, cynical and murderous misanthrope. And yet, despite being one of the world's most infamous eco-terrorists and supervillains, she was surprisingly compassionate, devastatingly beautiful, and a veritable genius.

"Neither can I," he said. "It just…feels like I'm doing something more to repay you, Pamela, more than being a live-in housekeeper."

"I have my plants to do that, Frank aside," Pamela said, indicating the mutated plant. "But honestly, it's so sweet. You're a good man, Harry, in a world where good men and women are hard to find. You deserve some happiness. I just wish it wasn't helping me with my career."

Harry chuckled, albeit weakly. "Look, the standard saying is that behind every great man, there's a woman. Why not the other way around?"

"…And you mean that. People would sneer at that, saying that such a man would be weak because he's supporting a woman. But you are strong. You endured your shithole of a childhood far better than I did with my own, you endured Bennet fucking animals in front of you for six years, all while trapped…you, Harry, are a living refutation to the Joker claiming that one bad day will turn any ordinary person into a creature like him. Honestly, you're helping keep me sane, and believe me, it's hard. I have my bad days and my good days. Sometimes, the sheer fucked-up nature of my life, combined with the screaming from the Green, it overwhelms me. I can't live a normal life. Even if I could have dealt with the green skin and the connection to the Green, Woodrue pretty much sealed my fate. But I still chose to become Poison Ivy, and that decision fucking haunts me. I…I envy you."

"…Why?"

"…You look like everyone else does. As fucked up as the Dursleys were, and Magical Britain was, you had a chance of a relatively normal, happy life. Okay, you were famous and all, but you didn't have green skin or a connection to a global floral consciousness that was driving you nuts. If it weren't for Ginnymort…sorry, I just…like I said, I envy you."

"…Would it be so weird to say I envy you too?" On her sceptical look, he said, "No, really! You're one of the most beautiful women I have known, you have honest-to-God superpowers beyond magic, you're a genius, and for all your crimes, you're doing it for a better cause than most. You have more conviction than I have."

"You mean more convictions," Pamela snarked, but she still smiled. "…You know what? Fuck it."

As she walked over, approaching him, he asked, "Uhh, Pamela? What are you…?"

"Quiet, or I'll lose my nerve. Spontaneity is more Harley's thing," she said. So he did shut up, and watched as she seemed to gather herself. And then, she stepped forward, grasped his head in her hands, and brought her lips to meet his own. Her tongue probed at his mouth, and after a moment's hesitation and shock, he let her in, relaxing into the kiss.

They stood there for several seconds kissing, their first substantial step into intimacy. A pair of damaged souls, complementing each other. Even Frank, gadfly though he was, just looked on with a warm smirk on his lips, or whatever passed for them on a mutant carnivorous plant.

She tasted bittersweet, Harry decided, like the nectar of a toxic flower, only without the threat of a horrible death by poisoning. A perfect taste for Pamela Isley, aka Poison Ivy. A perfect taste for her life, and his own.

Then, reluctantly, they broke it off, and stood there, for several seconds more, looking at each other. Harry realised, with a start, given the darker green colouration on her cheeks, that Pamela was blushing. Not that he could talk, so was he.

Foolishly, he broke the silence with the first thing that sprang to mind. "…So, how long?"

"Sorry?"

"Till I die from whatever you poisoned that kiss with?" Harry said with a cheeky smirk.

After a moment of glaring at him incredulously, Pamela began giggling, before breaking into full-blown laughter. "Oh fuck me, laughter may not be the best medicine, but damn, that was good. But try not to joke about that often, okay? I try not to poison people with kisses these days."

"Nah, she just uses a toxic attitude," Frank snarked. "But seriously, you two, that was some seriously sweet shit. Nearly gave me diabetes, and in a good way."

"…Can plants get diabetes?" Harry asked Pamela.

"Not that I know of," Pamela said. "He's full of shit. Must be the new fertiliser mix I gave him."

They didn't quite know it, but that was the beginning of their relationship rising to a new level. And sooner than either of them thought, a new force in their lives would come screaming in, with the subtlety of a tornado. An agent of chaos with bleached skin…

CHAPTER 7 ANNOTATIONS:

Okay, that's the last of the pre-show chapters. Finally, we'll get into an AU of Harley Quinn. One where Ivy breaks Harley out, but from the outside rather than the inside.

No numbered annotations this time.