Hello, Everyone! Guess what? IT'S ALMOST CHRISTMAS!
School gets out this week, so I will most likely get to update more! YAY!
Anyway, I own neither the Harry Potter nor the NCIS franchises.
Without further ado...
Chapter Six
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN HARRY IS MISSING?" Remus Lupin was normally a very kind, very calm man, but right now he didn't give a damn. His surrogate nephew was nowhere to be found and there was no way in hell he would just sit back and allow him to possibly be hurt because no one was doing anything.
"Yes, I am afraid that it is true. Young Harry has been kidnapped." Dumbledore sat at the head of the table, his hands folded calmly over each other, as if he didn't have a care in the world.
"Then why aren't we out their looking for him? Dumbledore, I already lost James, Lily, Peter, and Sirius, I can't lose him, too!" The old man smiled benignly.
"Remus, the whole point of this meeting was to inform the Order about Harry's disappearance. I want him back where I can keep an eye on him as much as the next person." Remus' eyes flashed amber and suddenly Dumbledore was pushed against the wall. Many rose to their feet in defense of the old professor, intent on stopping the man who had the bearded an pinned against the wall, but one golden seething glare from Remus froze them all in their spots, purely out of fear.
"Is that all he is to you? Nothing more than a weapon?" Remus snarled out, before he closed his glowing amber eyes in an attempt to calm the raging werewolf inside of him, who was prepared to rip whoever dared hurt his cub limb-from-limb. Opening his eyes, Remus walked towards the coat hanger, draping the worn robe around his shoulders before walking to the door.
"And where, exactly, do you think you are going?" Dumbledore's voice was like steal, so cold that several members of the Order stared at him shocked, having never before heard the kindly man speak like that. Remus, paused his hand on the doorknob.
"I am going to find my nephew, whether you like it or not!" And he left.
Gibbs was confused. First this lady waltzed into his home and convinced the agent that his son had magic, which he still couldn't believe that he believed it. Then she tell him that she know who Harry had been before he had been adopted, something not even Abby had been able to figure out.
"Why is it such a big deal if I was Harry Potter? It's not like I am him anymore, I'm Harry Sage Gibbs!" Harry said proudly, puffing out his chest. River couldn't help but smile down at him despite the raging war inside of her - he was just too adorable.
"It's not that simple, sweetie. There are certain, circumstances, around you that have to be taken into consideration." Gibbs crossed his arms.
"What type of circumstances?" River sighed.
"It'd be best if you sit down; this story is pretty long." They sat down.
"So why is it a big deal if I am Harry Potter?" Harry asked again.
"Remember how the news was always talking about Britain in the 80's and 90's and how people who were healthy one moment wound up dead the next?" Gibbs nodded.
"The American Government was spending a lot of time debating whether or not to send help." River smiled.
"Exactly. But most Americans don't really know what was happening over there. It all started with a mad man named Voldemort, although his real name is Tom Riddle. He went to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the 40's. He became obsessed with blood status." At the Gibbs' confused looks River blushed and started explaining. "Sorry, I keep forgetting that you're new to all of this.
"There are four different statuses in the Wizardry world. The first one is pure blood, where you must have a witch and wizard ancestry going back ten generations or more, no mundanes. The second is mundane born, or muggle born. These people come from ordinary families with no magic and just happen to have it. The third is half blood, which Harry and I are. It's where you have a mundane born or mundane and a pure blood as parents. The last is squib. Squibs are the opposite of mundane born. They are born into magical families but they don't have magic themselves." Harry frowned.
"But why should that matter? Aren't we all just basically the same?"
"We know that, but a lot of people in Europe still hold on to the old ideas. Now, Voldemort wanted to kill all mundanes and mundane born, claiming that only pure bloods should be allowed to use magic and everyone else should worship those of a 'more noble bloodline'. In the 80's and 90', he had enough forces to start a killing spree on everyone. Hundreds of magicals were killed and thousands of mundanes were killed. People were terrified that they would come home one day and find a Dark Mark floating over their house, signalling that someone inside was murdered by Death Eaters - which are what Voldemort's followers called themselves.
"Their was a resistance against them, but they weren't having much luck in defeating them." River smiled slightly. "You're parents were a part of that group, and them, along with a couple of their friends, were the ones who did the most damage to Voldemort's cause."
"Why were they failing against killing this Voldemort? I mean surely not everyone over there followed him!" Gibbs said, pulling Harry against his side.
"You have to remember that the wizarding world over there are still decades stuck in the past. Wizards and witches there still use quills and parchment, for heaven's sake! Voldemort was able to gather enough people who thought similarly to him and his ideals that most were just hoping that if they left them alone then Voldemort would leave them and their families alone. The Death Eaters and their Master were actually succeeding in taking over magical Britain. But then a prophecy was made about a boy who could defeat the dark lord. Not many knew about it. The prophecy spoke about a boy born in the end of June, and the only two babies born then were Harry and Neville Longbottom. Both families went into hiding using a spell called the Fidelius Charm, which makes a place, and anything and anyone in it, completely impossible to find.
"But on Halloween, 1991, Voldemort came to the Potter's house after their secret keeper betrayed them. James Potter was killed by a curse that leaves no mark, and is unblockable. Voldemort killed Lily Potter next and it is widely speculated that she gave her life for Harry's which created, for lack of better words, a shield of love around your son. When Voldemort fired the killing curse at Harry, it rebounded and broke Voldemort's powers. After almost two decades of Voldemort's reign of terror, it was finally over. Voldemort was gone thanks to a baby! Harry is praised by the wizarding world as the Boy-Who-Lived." Gibbs sat for several seconds in shocked silence, the information he was just told refusing to make sense. Harry was faring much better.
"So I defeated a really bad guy, but he killed my parents?" He asked, his eyes large and full of innocence.
"Yeah, Harry. You did."
"Are you sure?" River's eyebrows creased at the seemingly simple question.
"Sure about what?"
"That he's gone for good. That I'm the one who defeated him." River chuckled.
"Well, let's say for a second that this blood test was wrong. Harry Potter has a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. Do you have one?" Harry gasped and lifted up his bangs, revealing the afore-mentioned scar. Gibbs frowned.
"You avoided the other question." Both River and Harry looked up at the former marine with confused looks on their faces. "He's not really gone for good, is he?" River sighed.
"No, he's not. The day after we heard about Voldemort's defeat, the American President of Magic sent some of our best curse breakers to Harry's old house. It was mostly destroyed but they found out that when Voldemort's powers broke, his spirit fled the scene. We aren't sure why he didn't die, but he's still out there in a semi-alive state."
"That prophecy you mentioned earlier," Gibbs started. "You said that it said Harry (or this Neville kid) would be able to defeat Voldemort. But if he's not really dead does that mean Harry will have to fight him again?" River frowned.
"Truthfully, I have no idea if Voldemort will ever have enough power to come back. That information is way above my pay grade. But, yes. IF Voldemort comes back, Harry will have to take him down again." Harry snuggled into his dad who wrapped a tight arm around him.
"He doesn't have to do it alone, does he? He's just a kid!"
"No he doesn't have to do it by himself."
"What can I do to help him?"
"You can help us train him."
Three hours later, Gibbs and River, with occasional input from Harry, had a plan. Until his 5th birthday, which was in about 6 months, Harry would continue to be a normal kid, and River, Harry, and Gibbs would be the only ones who knew who he really was. But on his 5th birthday, Harry would be admitted into the D.C. School for Warriors, its entrance, coincidentally, underneath the Washington Monument. Harry would then spend the next 6 years before he went to Hogwarts (the three decided that Harry would have to go there so that the magical world of Britain wouldn't blow a gasket, but would continue learning over the summer) training in as many forms of magic and mundane studies as he could. While Gibbs showed River to the door, Harry went back to his drawing from earlier. For only being 4 years old, Harry was extremely gifted at drawing. He could honestly be considered a prodigy. The current picture that he was working on was a castle surrounded by a sparkling moat with dragons flying in the sky. Reaching for his glass of milk, he accidentally knocked it over. He cried out and almost instantly the glass from mid air, only seconds away from spilling the liquid all over the floor.
"Daddy!" Gibbs was in the kitchen a moment after his son has screamed, his hand on his gun. When he saw what had Harry so scared, he couldn't help but laugh.
"It's alright, bud. This must be some of the accidental magic River warned us would most likely happen now that you knew you were a wizard." Gibbs grabbed one of the books River had given them and turned to the chapter labeled controlling your magic. "Okay, just imagine the cup floating slowly over to the table." Harry's face screwed up in concentration and slowly - ever so slowly - the cup lowered itself back on to the table.
"I did it!" Harry's eyes lit up, happiness shining through his green orbs. Gibbs smiled.
"Good job, Har!" Watching as his son experimented with his new found magic, lifting the cup up several inches before lowering it back down, Gibbs couldn't help but wonder if he was doing the right thing, by letting Harry venture off into a world that he basically knew nothing about. Well, he thought, magic is real, and if no one is coming back from the future to stop me, then how bad of a decision could it be?
Gibbs slowly opened his eyes. He had been laying in his bed, peacefully sleeping when he felt someone staring at him from the doorway. Resisting the urge to grab his gun, Jethro leaned over and turned on his lamp before looking towards the front of the room. There stood Harry, his stuffed animals clutched tightly to his chest and his blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Seeing his son's tear- streaked face, Gibbs held out his arms and Harry immediately ran over and buried himself in his father's hold.
"What happened, Greeneyes?" Harry sniffed, rubbing his nose on his father's shirt.
"Bad dream."
"What was it about?"
"At first I was stuck in a closet, and it just kept getting smaller and smaller and smaller." Harry shuddered. "Then then then I was little, again, and I was in a crib. A lady with red hair, almost like Mommy's, but brighter, was there and she was saying stuff that didn't make sense. 'Not Harry. Kill me instead!' I got really scared. There was this scary laugh, and then a really really bright flash of green, and my head started hurting. And then I woke up." Gibbs pulled his son tighter against him, pressing kisses into his hair.
"Hey, it's alright now. I got ya." The two sat there for a while, Gibbs just rocking Harry back and forth as the little boy slowly calmed down. "Why don't you try and get some sleep, bud?" Harry looked up at him fearfully.
"But what if I have bad dreams again?"
"You won't; I'll be here to protect you."
"But what if I do?" Gibbs smiled slightly.
"Just choose not to have nightmares." Harry tilted his head.
"How do I do that?"
"Just repeat after me: I will not have bad dreams."
"I will not have bad dreams." Harry said.
"Good job. Now go to sleep." A few seconds later, Harry looked up groggily.
"Will you sing the song?"
"Sure, Greeneyes." Gibbs took a deep breath and started to sing. "...Birds fly above you, Love is around you, I would like to be too, Forever, forever and ever, With you…"
"Harry, I know you don't feel great but we gotta go. You're coming to work with me today, I know Abby can't wait to see you." Harry, who had previously been pretending to be asleep, shot up like a rocket before his feet got caught up in his blanket and tumbling to the floor. Gibbs held back his laugh as he disentangled his son out of the trap and swung him onto his hip. "Now, bud, how do pancakes for breakfast sound?" Harry nodded eagerly before he was overcome by a bout of sneezes. Gibbs gently rubbed his nose with a tissue. "You got a bad cold, don't you?" Harry nodded.
"Uh huh."
"Well, let's go."
Tony walked into Kate loudly sneezing and coughing. "Wow. What'd you do? Spend the night sake-bombing?" Kate rolled her eyes.
It's a cold, Tony," she said hoarsely before tilting her head. "Sake-bombing?" Tony looked at her incredulously.
"Oh, come on, Kate. Don't tell me you've never heard of sake-bombing?"
"Would I ask if – forget it. I don't want to know." Kate turned back to her work but Tony wasn't done.
"You take a cup of hot sake. You drop it in a beer. You toss it back and – and KA-BOOM!" Kate lifted her hands.
"Sake-bombing." Tony pointed at her.
"Great for a cold."
"I'll stick to honey and hot tea, thanks." Tony looked over at the other member of their team.
McGee, Kate's never been sake-bombing." Tim looked up from where he was sorting through their mail.
"You know, I don't think I have either."
"I work with a pair of wankers." Tony said, sighing.
"And you make three, DiNozzo." Gibbs walked in with Harry in his arms.
"Good morning, Boss!" Tony saw Harry. "And the mini Gibbs is here, too," he said ruffling Harry's hair, causing him to giggle.
"Good morning," Kate said through a stuffy nose. Gibbs looked at her before sitting Harry down on top of his desk.
"Cold or flu?"
"Just plain cold. Don't worry. I will sneeze into my tissues, unlike some people," she said, shooting Tony a glance."
"I have allergies, Kate," he said defensively.
"Never had allergies," Gibbs said, handing Harry a tissue. "Never had a cold." Kate looked at her boss with a disbelieving look.
"You never had a cold?"
"Nope. Never had the flu either."
"Why do I believe that?" Tony leaned over conspiratorially.
"If you were a bug, would you attack Gibbs?"
"I get colds all the time," McGee said, causing DiNozzo to snort.
"Of course you do, Probie." Tim held up a letter.
"This one is just addressed to 'NCIS Special Agent.' " Tony caught a look at the back and reached for the envelope.
"I think that's mine, McGee."
"How do you know?" Tony flipped around the letter.
"I recognize the lips. And the scent." Kate snorted.
"Gummy Bears?" Harry looked up from Gibbs' desk, putting down his sketch book.
"Gummy bears? I love gummy bears!" Tony choked back a laugh, pausing from opening the letter.
"Hey bud come here!" Gibbs looked up as his son jumped down and ran over to Tony.
"DiNozzo, you teach my son anything even remotely bad and I'll head slap you so hard that your head will still be spinning next week."
"Got it boss." Tony pulled Harry next to him. "Now, Har, there will come a point in your life when girls become very important." Gibbs growled.
"DiNozzo…"
"I'm all right, boss." He looked back down at the green eyed boy, who was staring up at him, completely enraptured. "If they ever send you letters that you have no idea who it is from, know that their either the one or a complete stalker that you need to fire a restraining order against." Tony slid open the letter and blue on it. A white powder flew into the air around Tony and Harry, causing Gibbs' heart to stop.
Gibbs stood on top of his desk. "We've opened a letter with white powder. Use the southeast corridor to the holding room. You all know the drill." Kate grabbed two water bottles and through them over to her partner.
"Tony!" She picked up the phone. "Letter opened in Special Agent Gibbs's office dispersed a fine white powder. Initiating bio-attack procedures. Third floor is evacuating." She slammed it down. Not taking his eyes off of Tony, who was pouring water over himself and the confused Harry, he yelled at his other agent.
"McGee, are you up on procedures?" Tim floundered a bit before nodding.
"Yeah, we shower, burn our clothes, get our blood tested. Nobody leaves the building until the substance is identified except…"
"Lucky us, Harry! We win a free trip to Bethesda to be pricked like a pin cushion."
"DiNozzo, stop scaring him!" Gibbs said.
"Got it!" The agents and Harry looked up as a loud crumbling sound echoed through the rooms. Kate started walking away.
"They've shut down the air. Let's hit the showers, Tony!"
"Thought you'd never ask. Sorry, Boss." Ignoring protocol, Gibbs picked up his boy and raced after his agents.
"Who would send me a letter with anthrax?" Tony asked as he scrubbed himself down.
"Pick a girl, Tony. Any girl."
"It's not funny, Kate." She sighed.
"Yeah, I know."
"This is serious."
"I know, Tony. I'm sorry."
"This very instant somebody is incinerating my Ermenegildo Zegna suit, my Armani tie, my Dolce Gabbana shirt, and my Gucci shoes!" Tony whined. McGee decided to speak up.
"You know, it might not be anthrax." Tony smiled.
"I like the sound of that, Probie." Of course, Tim wasn't always helpful.
"It could be smallpox, bubonic plague, cholera…"
"Probie!" Tony said with an aggravated tone.
"...Foot powder, face powder, talcum powder." Tony snapped his fingers.
"Honey Dust!"
"Honey Dust?"
"Honey Dust," Tony said. "I give it to girls – women, sorry, Kate. I give it to women at Christmastime. Very sensuous. You apply it with a feather."
"You don't use the whole chicken?" Kate joked.
"I never heard of Honey Dust," McGee said.
"Yeah, that's because your mother raised you to respect women, McGee." Tony started to speak up.
"It makes a woman's skin feel-"
"DiNozzo if you want to even have the chance of giving that gift next Christmas, I would advise you not to finish that sentence."
"Ah, sorry, Boss. Forgot that little ears were listening." Gibbs just hummed as he rubbed shampoo into Harry's hair.
"Hey! Doesn't the post office irradiate our mail?" Kate said. McGee clicked his tongue.
"Yeah, that's right. All Federal mail is funneled through the Ion Beam facility in Bridgeport, New Jersey. If it has DNA, it dies." Tony leaned his head out of his stall.
"The diseases that you named, they have DNA?" McGee laughed
"They do." Kate groaned.
"Ah, you should have let him squirm."
"Ha ha," Tony said. "Then it's no worries."
"Unless the post office screwed up again," Gibbs said. He meant to say it in a matter of fact way, but even he could tell that his voice was full of worry. Gibbs sighed, letting the hot water run over him.
Please don't let Harry get sick.
So I have a really really important question to ask y'all:
How many of you guys want Remus to find Harry in America?