AN: Thank you all for the words of encouragement. Again, I have to apologise for how slowly I get these out. I have a full time job, a family and a side job / business and those things do take a lot of my time. :)
Harry woke up feeling hungover, bruised and battered next to the naked sleeping form of his assistant.
The ringing of the to the apartment doorbell, the apparent cause of his awakening.
Harry wasn't quite sure why they were in bed together. Felicity hadn't slept in his bed since those demons had come out of the sleeping victims and really Harry could not remember going to bed either. His back also felt rather tender.
The doorbell rang a second time reminding Harry why he was awake.
Looking at the mechanical clock next to his bed, he noted that it was already past two in the afternoon.
Disentangling himself from Felicity and quickly donning a bathrobe, he made his way to the front door.
The sneakoscope above the door remained still.
On the other side of the door stood captain Steve Rogers.
"Captain Rodgers." Harry greeted.
"Please, call me Steve." The man replied. "Did I catch you at a bad time?" the man asked as he eyed Harry's disheveled state.
"No, no … well I was sleeping but I really should have been up ages ago. Please, come in."
Harry guided the man to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee before excusing himself to quickly get changed and some quick self grooming charms.
"Sorry about that." Harry offered as he poured two coffee cups.
"So … you're a wizard." Steve half asked / stated.
"I guess director Fury had you read my file?"
"Yeah and well, that's what it says on your sign outside." Steve pointed out.
"Right. So what do you want to know?"
"Well, I'm here for two reasons. I wanted to take you up on your offer to give me a bit more information even if your file did fill in a few blanks and well, Furry asked if I could find out what you've been up to since Christmas since you haven't answered your phone. And Fury thinks you might have been in the news."
Harry looked back at the man in confusion.
"Ugm … isn't today Christmas day?" Harry asked.
"No. We're December 27th."
Harry's eyes opened wide in surprise.
"We've been asleep for two days?" Harry asked in surprise.
"Not sure. What do you remember?"
Harry thought back.
"Well we were watching some weird christmas movies …"
Harry and Felicity were sitting drunkenly in the living room on Christmas eve, watching a strange mexican Christmas movie Felicity had found on the internet called "Santa Claus" where Santa worked in outer space and had to battle a demon named Pitch.
Harry snagged another one of Felicity's brownies from the tray on the table. Harry had been worried because Felicity had yet to make even a single meal since she had moved into the apartment and the smell from cooking the brownies had been worrisome and there was a little earthy taste to the brownies, not unpleasant but different.
"Wait! Is that supposed to be Merlin?" Harry asked giggling drunkenly, pointing at the screen with a glass of Gin in Tonic in hand.
"This is so weird!" Felicity agreed.
They watched the entirely nonsensical story unfold for a few more minutes.
"Harry? Do you think Santa was a wizard?"
Harry lazily rolled his head over to look at Felicity.
"I don't think so, he doesn't have a wand."
"No, no, no … I mean in real life either in your world or this one."
Harry took another sip of his minty drink considering, ignoring the movie playing to focus his dwindling cognitive capabilities on the question at hand. Harry was rather surprised by how affected he was by the Gin and Tonic mix having never gotten seriously inebriated before, not even at the end of year party at Hogwarts.
"I mean, he knows everyone's names and so do you, he has a bag on his sleigh that can hold more things than it should like your trunk, he has a flying sleigh and you have a flying motorcycle…"
Harry's eyes widened in surprise, it all made sense! Santa must have been a wizard.
"The hard working elves must have been house elves! Coming out the chimney could have been some kind of floo travel! Knowing if kids had been good or bad could have been legilimency or maybe an enchanted scroll like the school register? Being able to get to every house in the world could have been abusing the hell out of a Time Turner! Bloody hell! It all makes sense now!" Harry burst out spilling some of his drink as he gesticulated wildly.
They sat there stupefied by their drunken revelation, the movie ignored entirely.
Harry reached for another brownie.
"You know what we should do right? We need to get out there and go hand out gifts!" Felicity suggested.
Harry sat up straighter, knocking over his drink.
"YES! YES! We bloody well must and we've no time to lose! Felicity go get materials for me to transfigure and get yourself an outfit I can change into a Christmas elf outfit!"
But just as quickly as his enthusiasm had risen it plummeted!
"But there's no way I can make enough gifts for 7.5 billion people and I don't have a Time Turner and there isn't a floo network."
Harry collapsed back into his favorite comfy chair despondent but Felicity's enthusiasm had diminished only slightly.
"... ah! I spilt my drink." Harry commented quietly, looking at his cup on the floor sadly.
"So … so we start small. We do maybe the local children's hospital and a few orphe… orph … or phe nages. I remember what it was like in foster care at Christmas." Felicity exclaimed as she knelt by Harry's chair, a determined look in her slightly unfocused eyes.
Harry thought back to all those Christmases at the Dursley's, sitting alone in his cupboard while he listened to Dudley complain about the gifts he was unwrapping. He'd have been ecstatic to get any gift, even if it was just a new pair of socks.
"Right!" Harry exclaimed as he suddenly and unsteadily stood up causing felicity to fall back on her ass with a squawk.
"Get changed, we'll need junk to turn into gifts. We've got to save Christmas! … for a small number of children."
The next twenty minutes were a flurry of motion as Harry transfigured outfits, expanded a large bag and filled it with junk of various types to transfigure into gifts.
Felicity in the interim had been printing out maps with highlighted locations of interest: Morgan Stanley Children's Hospital, Mount Sinai Kravis Children's Hospital and Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Children.
Soon, a short and skinny Santa with a realistic beard that would have put Dumbledore's to shame and a tall punk elf with actual pointed ears mounted a magical Triumph Bonneville, taking off to their first destination while drunkenly singing Christmas carols out of tune.
"You have a flying motorcycle?" Steve asked incredulously.
"Yeah, an enchanted Triumph Bonneville." Harry confirmed.
"So motorcycles are the evolution of flying broomsticks?" Steve asked with a serious expression.
"No, I have one of those as well."
"So what happened next?"
Harry and Felicity made their way down the quiet halls of Morgan Stanley, hidden under Harry's invisibility cloak, giggling softly. They had parked the Triumph on the roof of the hospital and a Alohomora had made quick work of the locked door.
Finding the kids ward, Harry locked the doors and clumsily threw together a quick aversion ward and a sound suppression ward before transfiguring a simple chair into a large two seater chair flanked by pine trees covered by conjured decorations.
With a nod from Felicity, Harry took a last swig of Gin and Tonic from a handy, seriously expanded and more importantly sealed, thermos and raised his wand over head and connected to it like he had at Olivanders filling the room with light, wind and the faintest touch of Phoenix song.
The children slowly began to wake looking about in surprise.
"Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!" Harry cried out in a poor imitation of Santas he had seen in the movies earlier.
The children were coming out of their rooms with confused expressions, some in wheelchairs, others with crutches.
"Now if any of you can't leave your rooms don't worry! Santa will be over to see you in a few minutes. My elf Felicity's going to walk from room to room to make sure we don't miss anyone."
An older boy, around 13 or 14, with an eye patch over his right eye lead the group of younger children looked at Harry critically.
"Dude! The hospital Santa was here earlier. And you're kind of short and skinny to be Santa."
The boy had qualified the word Santa with air quotes both times.
"Well Richard Morton, that wasn't the real Santa. They mean well, of course but there's only one Santa."
The boy looked at him defiantly.
"You look almost my age under that fake beard. Ok then! Prove it! What did I ask for for Christmas two years ago?"
Harry hesitated in his retelling. Revealing to someone who reported to a massive spy agency that he could essentially read minds by way of viewing someone's memories would probably either result in him being constantly brought in to extract information or locked up as a national security liability.
"Is there a problem?" Steve asked.
Harry looked back to the still immobile sneakoscope mounted by the main door and decided to take a risk.
"I haven't told SHIELD everything I can do. For starters we'd be at it for weeks, then there's the fact that having a few surprises could be important if SHIELD turned on me and finally I wouldn't put it past them panicking and trying to lock me up for national security concerns." Harry explained.
"Like?"
"An example they already know is that I can apparate or I guess they'd call it teleport. I could teleport into the Oval Office and kill the president in under two minutes and there's nothing they could do about it. I have other powers just as worrisome from their perspective."
Steve remained quiet for a few moments.
"I can't promise not to tell SHIELD about this without knowing the gravity of the situation."
Harry nodded and continued with his story.
Some of the younger children looked up the the older boy in apprehension due to his disrespectful tone.
Harry on the other hand began to worry. He and Felicity had thought this a fun game but looking at the wary but hopeful expressions on many of the younger faces, Harry suddenly realised that if he failed he could crush their spirits and with his Legilimency skills being spotty at best …
Harry shook himself and looked deep into the boys one eye and with no effort at all Harry was brought into a memory, the boy had wanted a new mountain bike.
"You can read minds." Steve stated flatly.
"Not exactly, I can see your memories. I can't tell what you are thinking but I could go and search for the memory of when you had your first kiss…"
"Or of me reading a secret mission briefing." Steve interjected.
Harry looked back to the sneakoscope and found it still motionless.
"Yes. Without a wand and incantation I can only get surface memories. Memories associated with what you are thinking at the moment and it's disjointed and blurry. My guess is if I did it to you right now, I'd probably see you reading your last mission briefing or your most delicate briefing since that's what you're thinking about." Harry offered.
Steve appeared very conflicted.
"To be fair, I'm rather rubbish at it and had someone weaponise this skill against me essentially mind raping me so I'm rather not fond of it. I do use it when meeting people who are potential enemies."
"I need to think this over. This is a huge security risk but I promise not to say anything for now."
Harry looked back to the still immobile sneakoscope and smiled before continuing his story.
"Let me show you instead of telling you. Might not look exactly the same but we'll try our best."
With that Harry collected several pieces of scrap from his bag, placed them on the floor and began waving his wand, the pieces merged and melded, shifted and colored until less than a minute later … there stood a brand new shiny mountain bike … miniature.
"Sorry, Santa's not up to making a functioning bike out of thin air, too many finicky parts to do on the spot like this."
The boy stared in disbelief at the bike.
"It looks just like the one I saw at the store." The boy whispered as he took the model and let Felicity guide him to a chair on the side.
"So. Who's next."
A small blond girl with both arms in a cast and severe bruising on her face and shoulders timidly came up.
"Well Hello Samantha Collins, come sit on the couch."
"You know my name?"
"Santa knows the name of anyone he meets." Felicity explained putting down her own thermos of liquid libation.
"So first things first, Santa's not too good at healing magic but let's see what we can do here."
Taking his wand, Harry waved it over the young girls face reducing the bruising significantly.
"Now, let's see about those arms. Are they broken? Did the doctors put pins or rods in your arms?"
"Yes, I broke my arms, I had a skiing accident. They just put them in casts."
Harry nodded and mended both arms with a simple Bracium Amendo and then vanished the casts.
"There! You know, I once broke my arm and a wizard tried to heal it but he was a rather poor wizard and instead of fixing my bone he vanished it! My arm looked like it was made out of rubber!"
The girl giggled and Felicity snorted into her drink.
"Now let's see what you would like for Christmas from Santa."
Harry stared into her eyes and could see the memory of a plush bear that could turn into a pillow.
Taking some cloth scraps from his bag, Harry waved his wand and instead of a plush bear pillow ended up with a plush bear bean bag.
"Humm, seems Santa put a little too much magic into that one." Harry laughed but the girl gave him a hug and gently lowered herself on her new bean bag. With a swish of Harry's wand the bear became animated and ambled out into the girls room to her ruckus laughter.
Harry took another sip from his Gin and Tonic before motionning the next child forward.
Everything went rather smoothly after the first two children and Harry was having a wonderful time. The room was filled with temporarily animated dolls, stuffed animals, toy cars, model airplanes and spaceships.
The hallway was filled with loud cries from the ecstatic children.
All the children that were mobile had been dealt with and Harry and felicity had begun going from room to room to see the bed ridden children.
"And what do we have here?" Harry asked. "Julie Morris!"
In the room, connected to several machines was a sad sickly looking 15 year old girl. The girl had a perfectly bald head and Harry's stomach twisted in sympathy, focusing his inebriated thoughts. This girl was only 2 or 3 years younger than himself.
"Santa Claus isn't real, there's no such thing as magic and fairy tales are just that … tales."
Harry waved his wand at the door muffling the sounds of children playing and then pulled himself a chair.
"No, I'm not really Santa … or maybe I am tonight?"
Harry waved his wand at his face, removing his beard and pulled off his hat.
"My parents died when I was around one year old. I ended up living at my aunt's house. They didn't want me, thought I was a freak … unnatural. I remember sitting and starving in the boot cupboard under the stairs, that was my room until I was 11, listening to my cousin complain as he opened his massive pile of gifts and wondering why Santa didn't bring me any gifts and questioning if he even existed. At age 11, I went to a boarding school, my parents had signed me up and paid the day I was born and that's when I got my very first gift, a hand knitted sweater. At school, I made my first friend, he told his mum I didn't expect any gifts so she made me one."
The girl remained silent, staring intently at Harry.
"That's when I realised that Santa wasn't a person. He was an idea, a symbol. We're all Santa. Mrs. Weasley, a woman I had only briefly met at a train station had taken the time to knit me a sweater … she was my Santa Claus."
Harry rubbed at his eyes surprised to find tears there. He had been in such a great mood all evening.
"What? Am I supposed to feel bad for you? I've got Cancer."
The girls words were meant to be sharp but her tone was defeated.
Harry ignored her words, he knew what it felt like to be angry at the world better than most.
"Oh! And magic does exist!"
Harry stood up, changed his chair into a stuffed bear, animated it to wave at the girl before sending it out of the room to play with the children.
"The animation will only last a few hours."
The girls eyes opened wide and hope creeped into them.
"I heard you fixed a girls arms, could you …"
Harry shook his head sadly.
"I'm sorry, I can do the equivalent to first aid. Cancer is out of my skill."
Harry glanced into the girls eyes, hoping to find some simple trinket he could make for her but his surprisingly fluid passive legilimency only showed the girl outside playing soccer with other children.
"I'm sorry I can't give you what you really want. I could give you hair but I don't know how long it would last before it fell out again and magic and electronics don't mix well." He explained as he gestured at the beeping machines the girl was connected to.
Reaching over to her bedside table, Harry took a dirty butter knife and, after cleaning it, transformed it into a simple, metal pendant of a unicorn.
Harry stepped out of the room to find Felicity standing there with a brownie in one hand and his drink in another.
The hallway was in chaos with children running after animated transfigured toys and laughing at the magic. The temporary wards had placed on the doors allowing the children to play for a while longer, uninterrupted.
"We did good." Felicity declared, taking a long gulp from her drink. "Let's hit Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Children and then call it a night."
Harry smirked at the name and at the pleasant warmth spreading through him from the tasty treat and his new favorite drink. "My aunt and Uncle used to tell people I went to St Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys."
"Fuck your relatives." Felicity whispered drunkenly. "Let's go and help out some more kids."
Harry nodded in agreement, pushing the Dursleys from his thoughts.
"Ok kids!" Harry cried out bit was interrupted.
"Dude! Where's your beard?!"
"Oh bloody hell!" Harry whispered, waving his wand back at his face causing all the children to laugh uproariously.
"Well my elf and I have more gifts to hand out. The animations on the toys will probably last another hour or so so enjoy them while they last and a Merry Christmas to all."
"And to all, a good night!" Felicity added.
Harry grabbed her by the waist and disapparated the both of them with a loud crack.
They jumped onto the Triumph buzzing the windows of the kids ward before flying off in the direction of their next stop Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Children.
Steve stared at Harry incredulously
"Need some proof?" Harry asked.
"Maybe a little? It's just hard to take in."
"That's why I said you should take a while before hearing my story." Harry explained.
With a few silent flicks and swishes, the dirty dishes in the sink began floating and cleaning themselves.
Steve stared for a few moments.
"Right! Magic is real. So after the children's hospital. What happened?"
"You're taking that rather well." Harry commented.
"I was fighting a red skulled Nazi for control over a magic box that desintegrated the man in front of my eyes, I plunged a plane into the arcitic to stop the bombing of New York and then woke up 66 years into the future … I think I'm fairly resilient."
"A magic box?" Harry asked.
"I called it that because I have no idea what it was or how it worked. I can't tell you anymore, I don't know if you're cleared to know."
"Fair enough" Harry agreed. "So next thing I remember we're in this dirty alley …"
"Are you sure this is the right place?" Harry asked as they unsteadily made their way down a dirty alley. The Triumph parked on the street with a notice me not charm on it.
"Yeeeaaaah!" Felicity replied drunkenly as she shoved her printed maps into his hands. "If your mojo didn't zap our phones we could check on the GPS but map says … oh! Look!"
The girl ran off and pointed at a metal plaque embedded into the alley wall next to a door.
"Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Children … told you it was here!"
Without a moment's hesitation, she yanked the door open and walked in with a loud "Merry Christmas!".
"Uhm … Felicity … I'm not sure this is an orphanage." Harry loudly whispered as he looked at the rather dingy bar filled with dangerous and rough looking men and women.
"Yeah! What's the big idea building a bar in an orphn'ge." Felicity slurred drunkenly as she turned a baleful eye at the weasley looking man behind the bar.
"This place hasn't been an orphanage in like 80 years." the man behind the bar explained. "I don't think there's been an orphanage in the US since the sixties."
"Ah! Man, we fucking suck at this Santa thing. We only did one hospital!" Felicity whined as she dropped down heavily onto a bar stool.
Harry patted the girl gently on the shoulder, taking a seat next to her.
"I'll have a Gin and Tonic and she'll have … water." Harry asked as he carefully sat himself down on the stool.
The bartender appeared to be about to refuse when Harry pulled out a large pile of notes from his pocket.
"No! I want beer."
"Water first beer later." Harry countered.
"You're not the boss of me!" Felicity whispered glumly as she fumbled for her glass.
"Actually, I am." Harry reminded her.
"Fuck off." the girl replied with a snort. "I'm going for a piss."
Felicity walked off drunkenly towards the bathrooms leaving Harry to nurse his drink and wondering if she had any more brownies left, feeling a little peckish.
Looking around, Harry noticed a board over the bar but instead of a menu, it appeared to be a betting pool titled the 'Dead Pool'.
"So Mr. Hammer, what's this dead pool about?" Harry asked.
"The name is Weasel. Not sure how you found out that name but it's best you forget it." the bartender replied back with a serious expression.
"Santa knows everyone's name Mr. Weasel." Harry replied with a chuckle with gesturing at his gedup.
"It's just Weasel, my dad was Mr. Weasel." the man replied.
"If you know everyones name then what's mine?" a large man that looked like Hagrid might have had he been in a biker gang asked.
"Edward Thomas Buckford." Harry replied without hesitation.
"Edward? Buck is your nickname?" Weasel asked in surprise.
The man in question nodded back in surprise.
"You think you know someone …" the bartender commented. "I still don't buy that you're Santa. You're about one hundred and fifty pounds too light and about two thousand years too young. 'Edward' here makes a more convincing Santa than you do."
"Aright, I'm going to tell you what you wanted for Christmas the last time you asked me for something." Harry challenged.
Harry barely had to focus at all, his magic sprung forward, catching the mans associated memories. A page from an electronics catalogue showed a circled TRS-80. Harry wasn't one hundred percent certain what that was other than a computer of some type.
"Hunh. You wanted a new computer. A TRS-80?"
The bartender's eyes grew wide in surprise. "What the actual fuck!? Why didn't you get my computer then?"
"I'm new to the Santa thing. This was my first night, trying to ease into it." Harry explained.
"I fucking said no you asshole!"
Harry was up, and rushing down the bar towards Felicities angry voice before he even realised what was happening.
Felicity was pushed up against a wall with a pair of large rough looking men crowding her. One man had a hand up to her waist.
"I think the lady has told you to piss off. You might want to listen." Harry growled out, his magic practically bubbling under his skin.
The second man looked over to Harry with a derisive look.
"Look little boy, unless you want to spend the holidays in intensive care, you'll walk back out the way you came." the second man attempted to shove Harry away but Harry's reflexes, honed by years of people trying their damned best to kill him, kicked in. Harry moved out of the way of the shove and attempted to shove the much larger man back … unbidden, Harry's magic reacted, sending the man careening into the nearest wall.
The room suddenly went quiet, the man crowding Felicity looked at Harry in surprise as Harry stared at his hand in confusion.
Felicity, seeing an opportunity kneed the large man in the groin. Someone by the pool table was heard to say: "That'll do it." and the entire bar descended into chaos.
"No, no, no! I just finished getting this place cleaned up from last time!" the bartender exclaimed in annoyance.
At this point in the story, Felicity stumbled into the kitchen, dressed in her usual panties and shirt and slumped down at the table, eyes closed.
"Kill me." She mumbled as she lay her head in her arms on the table. "I fucking feel like I've been in a three day orgy marathon!"
"Language!" Captain Rogers reprimanded softly.
Felicity's head snapped up suddenly noticing that they had a visitor, her red rimmed eyes grew wide, her greenish complexion took on an almost healthy pinkish hue and then something incredible happened … she squeaked in surprise and ran out of the room.
Harry snorted in amusement into his coffee.
"Oh hell, I'm so sorry but it looks like you have a fangirl."
"I'm sure she was just embarrassed by her state of dress." the Captain offered, his own complexion a little flushed.
"Nope. She sat here dressed just like that with Fury sitting right where you are and didn't bat an eyelash. And trust me, I can spot a fangirl a mile away."
Rodgers appeared a little uncomfortable at that admission so Harry continued with his story.
"Everything gets a little blurry from this point on." Harry explained.
Simultaneous fights broke out across the bar, a man had just broken a beer bottle on another man's back, another man had gotten tossed over the pool table in the back, felicity was kicking her original aggressor forcefully in the ribs.
Harry's bemused observation was cut short when he was tackled from behind and someone began raining blows to his head.
Again, Harry's magic reacted unconsciously, sending his assailant flying into another group of men.
The next few minutes passed in a blur as Harry dodged various assailants while punching or kicking anything that came close to himself or Felicity.
One moment Harry had been fighting and the next he found himself outside with Felicity and a group of men laughing. The sounds of fighting could still be heard coming from the bar.
After another moment he was lying face first in a strange chair with his shirt off. A man, Wade Harry vaguely remembered, giving him a swig of a bottle before the needles began …
Harry stopped his explanation, whipped off his shirt and conjured two mirrors. On his back was a massive tattoo of a stag, a wolf, a grim and a Raven.
"Well … could be worse than getting a drunk tattoo after a bar fight. You could have gotten married." Rodger's offered as he tried very hard not to laugh at Harry's sudden panic.
At the word 'married' Harry remembered how he and Felicity had been sleeping in the same bed and brought up his hand. To his relief, it was bereft of ring.
"It happened a lot during the war."
"What? Drunken weddings?" Harry asked, dropping bonelessly in his chair in relief.
"Well, I'm sure there were a few of those but no, I meant the drunken tattoos after a bar fight. Guys would get antsy between conflicts and get drunk at the local bar. Usually no hard feelings at the end."
Harry nodded.
"From your file, you mentioned a war broke out? I'm guessing you were part of it."
Harry moved to the coffee pot and busied himself with pouring another cup.
"It wasn't a war like the one you were in." Harry began. "It wasn't massive armies on battlefield. It was actually not even technically a war. My friend Hermione explained that it was an insurrection, a group of bigots who believed that only those born of existing magical families had worth and all others were little more than animals."
"Sounds familiar." Rodgers offered accepting a fresh cup of coffee.
"It wasn't battles on battlefields, it was people vanishing in the night, the government being taken over little by little. Laws accumulating and the next thing people knew, first generation witches and wizards were being rounded up, interrogated to find out who they had stolen their magic from and then sent to 're-education camp'."
They sat in silence for a few moments.
"When I was one year old, the leader of the Deatheaters came for my parents. He killed both of them but when he tried to kill me his spell rebounded from some type of protection my mother had placed on me and destroyed him instead. Unfortunately, he'd made himself sort of immortal and was simply banished as a spirit. By the time I started magical school, he was strong enough to possess willing hosts. He tried to kill me at age eleven, I killed his host instead."
"A lot of crazy stuff happened over the years but he tried to kill me a few more times until he finally managed to resurrect himself. He wasn't going to let his multiple defeats at my hand stand so he hunted me. Our Minister for Magic refused to believe he was back, he'd been bribed by Voldemort's supporters for over a decade, so we lead a shadow war against the Deatheaters while the government tried to discredit me while elements inside the governement also tried to murder me."
"My friends and I left school to hunt the items that granted Voldemort his immortality. We spent a year living out of a tent, being hunted. I actually have a copy of my Public Enemy number one wanted poster in my things. We finally got all of them when I discovered I was also one of those items. A part of Voldermorts soul had attached itself to me we he failed to kill me the night he murdered my parents and as long as I lived, he couldn't die."
Harry looked up at the soldier knowing he would understand, he had done the same himself.
"So I walked into his camp as he attacked my school and let him kill me."
Rodgers simply nodded. "You jumped on the grenade."
"Except, instead of killing me, I was able to sacrifice the piece of soul he'd left inside me and came back. By then there was only one anchor left, his snake familiar but one of my friends took care of it and then I killed the now mortal Dark Lord."
Harry looked back up at the man sitting across from him at the kitchen table. He could see no pity, not judgement only understanding. In the hallway, the sneakoscope remained perfectly still. Harry felt a rush of relief. The emotions he'd bottled since Voldemort's resurrection came back with a vengeance.
He'd never had a chance to tell anyone any of this. Well, he had of course but none of them really understood. Even the Aurors like Shaklebolt hadn't understood. To them, Harry was the Boy-Who-Lived or The-Man-who-Conquered. Moody might have understood but he had died during the escape from Privet Drive. Hermione would have understood but Harry had refused to burden her with his grief as she dealt with her own demons and he had already been enough of a burden on the young woman and Ron didn't have the emotional range to understand okus he was also suffering through his own loss.
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, simply sipping their coffee. Felicity eventually returned, showered and properly dressed.
"Dude. Did we get tattoos?" Felicity asked.
Harry lifted his shirt and showed her his tattoo.
"Totally worth all those pot brownies." the Girl exclaimed.
"You drugged me?" Harry asked in disbelief.
"You didn't know?!?" Felicity asked in disbelief. "Did you not smell it when I was baking them?"
"I've never done pot in my life! How was I supposed to know? Doing mind altering drugs when you can literally reshape reality with your mind is a bad idea!" Harry explained.
"That and winners don't do drugs."
Felicity and Harry both looked at each other incredulously.
"Dude, I think you're totally awesome but ... " Uncharacteristically, Felicity hesitated to say what was on her mind.
"You are sort of the poster boy from performance enhancing drugs." Harry continued.
Rodgers appeared to want to argue the point but stopped, appeared confused for a moment before realization came upon him.
"Right."