The Mimic

Summary-Harry has always had a talent with mimicking voices. He could make his voice sound like anyone he wanted it to be like, be it male or female; with just a little practice on his part. Then when he found out he could also shift his features to look like anyone he wanted to Harry knew that he had something that could save him from the hell that was his so-called family; he had something he could finally make a name for himself with. Now years later Tsuna, and his new guardians, are going to meet up with the now world-famous hitman and assassin only know as The Mimic.

Disclaimer- I do not own Harry Potter or Katekyo hitman reborn, nor do I make any money off of either one of them.

Chapter two

Harry, or Mimic as he was known as now, couldn't be happier that he left the Dursley's house all those years ago. He would freely admit that yes, at first everything had been really difficult for him when he had first left.

More so then ever as, back then he hadn't had any idea as to just what to expect while on the streets; or had any real serious plans as to just what he was going to do next. Which to someone who usually liked having an idea what was going on, as well as a good deal of knowledge on what was going around him, was hell at first for Harry. And left him a lot jumpier than normal.

As well as debating going back to the Prison he had just escaped from. If only for the comfort he'd have of actually knowing what was going on around him. Something that was only made worse by how bad things were for him in the beginning, and how many different mistakes he had made back then.

Thankfully the fact he could change the way he looked had saved his life quite a few times back then; and let him escape a lot easier than it would have been otherwise. Hell, if he hadn't been able to do that Harry was pretty sure he would have ended back up at his so-called family soon after he had first escaped from there.

But after a while, and a lot of hard work Harry had finally found his place in what had quickly became his new life. He had finally proven himself right about his life being better after leaving the Dursleys' family all those years ago. And at the same time made himself extremely glad that even with all the doubts he had in the beginning, Harry hadn't gone back to his so-called family's house.

Like he had been tempted to do when things had hit an all-time worse for him after he had first escaped from them. As there was no way he'd have the sheer freedom he did now if he had gone back, in fact Harry wasn't sure he'd even still be alive if he had gone back after escaping from them like he had.

In all honestly, it had been about seven years since he had first left the hell hole that had been forced onto him during his childhood. One where he had been repeatedly beaten bloody and forced to work himself to the bone. At least he had until he had decided he had had enough and that he would actually have a better life on the streets then with them. Which in the end it took nearly half those years he had been on the run for that belief to become true.

But still, even with all the time it had taken for things balance out, Harry felt he made the better choice. Seeing as Harry felt that if he had stayed, in that place had been forced to call his home, he felt that something would have broken in him. And that would happen before anything good had been able to happen to him. Hell, he'd have to be broken before his 'family' allowed him to be as happy as he was now. If that even happened in the first place.

In the meantime, and since then, the now fourteen almost fifteen-year-old, Harry had been able to make quite a place for himself; not to mention quite a name as well. A place that he had never thought he would actually have when he had first taken off, at least not in the positions he currently was in. Hell, it was something that had never crossed his mind, hadn't crossed his mind until he had been on the run for a couple of years for that matter.

But at the same time, it was a place, and name, that offered him more safety, more protection, not to mention more benefits, then he ever would have had with his so-called 'family'. In fact it was a name , and placement that got him more than Harry ever thought he would have gotten otherwise; be it because he spent so long on the street or because of the rumors his 'family; gleefully spread about him.

Sure, it had been an incredibly hard and dangerous road to get where he currently was; one that had nearly ended with him dying on several different occasions. Not to mention it had taken him down a path he had never thought he would have gone down in a thousand years when he had first fled from the hell he had been forced to call his home.

However, even knowing what he did and what others may think of him because of what he did, Harry couldn't find himself regretting anything that he had done that lead him to his current positions. Couldn't find it in him to regret finding a path that actually let him live as himself, or whoever he really wanted to be, instead of what others wanted him to be.

Nor did he think he ever would, as Harry had long since learned the value of his own freedom; something he wasn't ever willing to lose. As Harry knew that, that would be what he lost if anyone found out just who he was or what he did; seeing as he had seen it happen to others.

Not only that, but after everything he had been put through, and after all that he had learned over the last couple of years, Harry couldn't bring himself to care in the least bit what other people thought of him; at least now he didn't.

But at the same time, he knew, with a bit of amusement, that if normal people, like his 'family' who all claimed so hardly and proudly to be, knew just what he did, or how he did it all for that matter…well they'd be utterly horrified; if only because their preconceptions about what he did.

Again, what Harry did now wasn't something Harry was ashamed of; not in the least bit. If anything, it was something he was rather proud of; seeing as he worked extremely hard to get where he currently was.

Worked through sweat, blood and tears from what was basically the ground up, to get to his current location. And that was something Harry would never be ashamed no matter what others may think of it. Even if it made him what his family happily called a freak. Something they would do even when you didn't count the ability he had used into the equations.

Just what Harry did, that would bring such a variety of different reaction, and a sense of pride from himself, was that he worked for the Mafia, as an independent; at least at moment. Meaning that Harry didn't work for one single specific group, one specific family like the majority of the Mafia did, but as a more freelance member. One who specialized in information gathering, infiltration, and assassinations.

The last of which Harry did only as a last resort and only after gathering all the information about the targets himself. This meant that Harry would only do an assassination if he found the person, he was to be targeting was horrible enough it would warrant something like an assassination; something sadly did happen a lot more than he would like.

However, with his skills, and how high demand he could be in the Mafia, Harry could afford to be a bit picky with what he did. Not as picky as some, but he was still free to reject several offers that he felt went against his personal morals. After all, when he did take a mission Harry never failed at it; no matter what the mission had been. A sign of he had the skills to back up the choices he made.

Something which combined with the fact that, no one knew his really name, just his moniker, nor his real age, what he even looked like, or even his real gender for that matter made him really popular by those that wanted to hire him. And made it so he could reject cases he didn't like that much easier without fear of being assassinated for doing so.

Though this popularity was both in a negative and positive way; like it was any nearly any other profession. Seeing as being such an unknown, yet somehow highly sought after, skilled player made many different Mafia families wanted him directly under their control; rather Harry was willing or not.

And so far, Harry wasn't willing to join any family, no matter what was offered to him; he loved his freedom too much to do that. Not to mention he loved the fact he had the ability to pick a choice what case he could take; something he knew he'd loss if he did join a family. As then he would have to obey that family and take what cases they wanted him to take.

Another reason Harry had become so popular and why that Harry was able to fool so many people into being unable to figure out pretty much anything about him. Was how he had made most people unable to find out just who Mimic actual was; despite how hard they tried. Which was another ability Harry had found a good year after he had first ran to the street; something which had been a big, but welcome, surprise to the then nine-year-old Harry.

This was the ability to actually make clones of himself, using a couple drops of blood, or even a piece of hair to do so. When it came to making these clones, rather they were made from his blood or a piece of his hair, what Harry had to do when he formed them, was rather simple and complicated at the same time; even if the first time he made a clone had been purely by mistake.

Seeing as when he made a clone, he had to take the blood or hair he was using and then pushing with his purple flames, which he had found out were called cloud flames, as well as his secondary flames, mist flames, combined with almost shimmering power he had found when he mediated.

Something which he had learned from a small-time dojo owner, when he had turned ten, was called magic, at least according to the dojo owner who had told him about magic in the first place. And the same dojo owner also informed Harry that had quite a bit of magic to boot.

Which was a good thing seeing as it took quite a bit of magic to make the clones in question, along with a good deal of both flames as well. Considering all the energies had to blend all together in a certain way until a clone formed; in a continuous flow that couldn't be broken, or it end with an explosion.

Thorough a lot of experimentation, as Harry honestly loved his ability to make clones, he was able to find out, there was a difference between the clones depending on how he made them. When it came to clones that were made with a piece of hair, it made it so that clone in question was a lot weaker than one that was made from his blood. Not to mention when it came to making a clone out of a piece of hair it ended up taking more magic to make. Making really only good in a pinch or in a place where he couldn't get any of his blood.

Something that rarely happened, as one of the first things Harry learned to do with his ability to shift his features was make his fingernails pointed and razor sharp; so no matter what he'd always have at least on type of weapon on him. Something that he could also do with his teeth in a pinch and honestly Harry wasn't afraid to bit someone if he had to; not when his life could be at stake he wasn't.

The clones Harry made could only shift their features once, meaning the first look they took after changing from Harry's original form, was their new permanent look, unable to change at all until they burned away. Which was how they were disposed of if they weren't killed in some way; burning in an odd colorless flame until they completely disappeared.

This single shifting was similar to the fact they, the clones that is, only had a certain amount of both flames and magic they could use. Which was limited depending on how much Harry gave them, and how long they stayed formed for that matter. With the more power they used making it so they burned out faster; unless Harry specifically made sure to give them more power during their making so they wouldn't.

Not to mention, despite how useful they were currently Harry could only make three, maybe four, at a time, per a day; though he'd be pushing it if he did do four a day. And if he didn't let himself recover after making the clones, he would feel a lot weaker then he normally was.

Not to mention if he didn't sleep that night, he wouldn't be able to make any more clones the next day; as his energy wouldn't have had the chance it needed to recover. Making it so his cloning ability did have some serious limitation, ones Harry had to find through experience.

At the same time, these clones in questions could last about a day, to a week; though in the week case that was if he only made one clone that day and put the power of three clones into it while doing so. Something Harry was working on improving, but so far really hadn't needed a clone that lasted more than a week; at least not one where he couldn't replace it and pretend it was the same person/clone. So, because of that he hadn't pushed it further than that; not yet.

Best of all, because it was his blood, or hair, that he used to make these clones Harry was able to get back any information the clone got once it was burnt up or destroy in any way. He hadn't tried to use it with someone else hair or blood, but something told Harry if he tired that along with a dose of the person in questions flames, he could make a clone of them; and they would get the memories from it. Or at least a faint imprint of the memories at least.

Though at the same time Harry got the feeling that if he did do that, he wouldn't be able to make as many nor would they last nearly as long as the ones he made of himself. But until he got a chance to actual test it out that would remain just a gut feeling, and honestly Harry wasn't to eager or quick to want to test it out. As the clones where his, and he really didn't want to trust anyone else with them.

In fact, it was because of those clones, as well as the different powers that helped make those clones, in more particularly the cloud flames and the magic he had found out about a couple years ago. That Harry was as skilled and knowledgeable as he currently was. It was also why he was on such high demand by the Mafia families as well; even if they didn't know who he was exactly.

Seeing at almost fifteen years old, Harry was skilled in acrobatics, daggers, senbon needles, hand to hand, memorizing information and pure speed. Not to mention had all the skills of a top-notch cat burglar. And this was on top of the skills he had in both mimicking and morphing his features; which he had only improved on over the years. All and all the skills he needed to be one of top-notch information gathering, infiltration, and assassin that he was.

Harry was also starting to get really skilled in his other magical abilities, as well as finding different ways to use his flames. Most though curiosity and the different books he was finally allowed to read; seeing as anything that was imagination based had been banned from his so-called home.

Though on that note he did use his cloud flames a bit more than he did his mist flames; seeing as they seemed to come to him more easily. Not to mention they seemed to have more use for him then mist flames did; at least for the moment they did. Though that wasn't to say that the mist flames themselves weren't useful because they most certainly where and Harry certainly made use of them on more the one occasion. How could he not given what they could do?

Especially now that he knew more about them, what they meant, and the different ways they could be trained in; or how they could help with his training for that matter. And to think he had unknowingly been using them to make his clones before he had even realized what the flames in question were. That was rather ironic to Harry, and as he found out later extremely dangerous as well.

At the same time even after finding out about them and how supposedly special the flames in question were, and the spot they were supposed to hold in the Mafia, Harry couldn't help but be grateful that he wasn't a sky flame.

After all his cloud flames had him highly sought after already, especially with the apparent purity and sheer strength he had with his flames. But at the same time Harry couldn't help but shutter as he wondered just how much worse it would have been if he had actually been a sky. Harry got the feeling even with how bad things could get now, it'd only be worse if he did have those bright orange flames.

Harry felt it would have been hell for him if he had gotten those orange flames, not to mention he most likely wouldn't have been able to really train said sky flames, as that would bring way too much attention to him. At least most people from the mafia were wary about messing with anyone with cloud flames because of the reputation they had. Which gave Harry a lot more opportunities to train then he would have otherwise.

When it came to how exactly his had trained with his flames, as well as his magic, well that was yet another thing the clones came in handy for. Both with the fact he had the clones try out the more dangerous ideas, as well as the fact he had the clones researching different things while he worked on the more physical side of things.

As only Harry only got the memories of the clones not the physical side effects; though when it came to memories the moves he needed that did help with his muscle memories to a degree. Even if he did have to work it into his body after getting said memories.

But currently all that didn't matter to Harry, as he found himself doing a job he really couldn't afford to reject, in a small little town in Japan. A job that was something he was most likely would have done any way, both because of the rumors he had heard when it came to this job, and mainly because of the fact how he received said job application.

Seeing as it had come in the form of a letter, from one of the very few people who knew how to get in contact with him. Not to mention, the letter came from, one of the very few people Harry was utterly terrified of yet highly respected at the same time. Meaning there was no way in hell he was going to ignore or reject said letter in any way.

Seeing as unlike many others that tried, this person knew just how to find him, and knew when he was speaking to him, and not someone else; and this even included clones of him for some reason.

Which was opposite of a lot of the clients Harry worked for, who often, unknowingly to them, had gotten in contact with an actual clone instead of him; as a safety procedure. Clones that both didn't look like he originally did nor sound like him; hell half the time they weren't even the same gender for that matter.

Something that had saved his life, and freedom, on more than one occasion. As often times those who wanted to hire him also wanted to trap him; something Harry was sure he'd die before he ever let it fully happen. So, he decided to be prepared for even the slightest chance that could happen.

Yes, Harry loved being paranoid and overprepared for things; it always seemed to make things turn out better for him. Even if it didn't usually work on the person who had written to him, but Harry figured, all things considering, that was a given and would continue to be so for a while. At least while the other person in question was trying to either betray or trap him in someway it was; or at least he seriously hoped it would continue that way.

Still knowing this, and knowing what it could mean, meant that Harry would still respect, as well as, have a healthy fear of the man whom had recently hired him. Which was one of the reasons he was where he was after reading the letter, he had received just a day or so ago. Making it so that Harry had gotten where he was being requested to go as quick as possible; at least without leaving a large trail for others to follow he had.

As he did this, Harry was doing a little research himself to find out if everything he had gotten in the letter was as true as the letter said it was. After all Harry preferred finding the information out himself, rather than depending on someone else information. Even if the information was from someone as great, and well known as the world's greatest hitman Reborn.

It just made Harry feel a bit better doing it himself, even if he didn't find nearly as much information as the other hitman in question did. Not that he was honestly expecting to. It was something that he did to soothe several instincts of his; which others had told him where his cloud tendencies.

Something Harry knew Reborn, knew himself, and had even included a rather teasing go ahead and find out for yourself in the letter he had sent him. The letter Harry still had in his bag, and honestly the letter that was his whole reason he was in Namimori, Japan to begin with.

The letter in question was a short, but to the point letter. But one that had the potential to unleash an untold amount of chaos depending on what happened. Which was something Harry had come to expect from Reborn. Even if he had never really meet him in person before; at least not to his knowledge. Just really heard about him from rumor and word of mouth.

Still as Harry took a deep breath and continued to look around the town, that he was currently in, Harry couldn't help but sit in a shadowed spot, one that was protected from most others being able to actual see him, and reread the letter that had started this whole trip.

Ciao, little Mimic

Seeing as you received the letter the way you have, I am sure you know just who it is from. So, I'll get more to the point; as I know you hate long winded talks. I am currently tutoring a rather interesting student that I feel you would like to meet yourself. Seeing as something about him I feel will call out to you in some way. Maybe he can be the one to bring you out the shadows you so seem to adore? That'd be funny to see.

Not to mention, it will give you something to do, seeing as I know lately you have been rather bored. Something anyone who even as the smallest amount of information about you, knows that it's a bad thing.

So, considering all you have to do at the moment is avoiding going out too much considering the families that are looking for you. And training more to get you skills even sharper, something that can only be done so much before it becomes monotonies correct?

You don't even have any jobs to keep you mind off of things, do you? After all, you finished that last information gather job a little too quickly; should have played around so more. It would have left you a bit more entertained anyway. But I do admit you were very thorough in all the information you gained. Even if it left you bored out of you mind afterwards.

So, it shouldn't be too much for you to come down here would it? You can come see just why I feel you'll be thoroughly entertained here. Just come to Namimori Japan and find out just what I am talking about. Try checking it all out for yourself, get all the information you want on your own, sooth that prickly cloud flame of yours. Even if all you'll find out is that I'm right.

The number one hitman, Reborn.

As if you didn't know.

Harry, at first when he read this really just wanted to throw the letter away. Mostly because it annoyed him in a way he couldn't really explain if asked. But at the same time knew that he couldn't do that.

No matter who you were, no matter how skilled you thought yourself to be, you didn't just throw a letter away from Reborn of all people. Especially not one that had a suggestion or request on it. Like this letter did.

At least you didn't if you had any semblance of sanity in you. Which in turned led to Harry listening to the letter and making his way to Namimori to see just what Reborn had thought would catch his attention. If only to avoid Reborn thinking he shunned his letter in some way and coming after him; be it as the hitman he was or worse the utter troll he could be.

Though he, of course, wasn't in his true form as he did this. Instead Harry had decided to come as a sixteen-year-old male with spiky blue hair, golden tan skin, almost pitch-black eyes, and a muscular build.

One which was a good deal taller, and intimidating looking then his true form. Then to add in some details Harry had made a several fake tattoos along his arms and what looked like a real eyebrow piercing as well.

All and all, this form basically screamed get the hell away from him. So, Harry didn't have a lot people crowding around him like he would otherwise. Though he did notice he was getting rather odd looks and heard whispers of 'him' finding out.

Luckily, like all the other forms Harry decided to take up as mimic, Harry trained in it long before he actually attempted to use it in a mission. Which was why Mimic had only ten different forms he usually took; besides his true appearance that is.

Because otherwise he'd have trouble fighting in his chosen form. Though coming up with a fighting style for each form and getting them all to the level he wanted them to be at; really had been hellish. Even with the help of several clones every day to work on the forms better. And he knew that it would be a while before he ever decided to add a new look to his choses, at least a permanent new look; he'd use new looks as long as he knew he didn't have to fight or be in long after all.

Harry was torn from his thoughts about the training he had done to get used to the form he had decided to currently wear. When a teen, who was roughly the same age as his true age, maybe a bit younger, ran by screaming. In only his underwear. With a bright orange flame on his head. Screaming about Reborn and his dying will…

Seeing this, Harry really got the feeling he had just seen what Reborn had wanted him to come this town to begin with. Well, color him intrigued…even at the same time knowing what he did about Reborn Harry also wanted to slap a hand to his face and back away quickly from whatever the chaos loving hitman had planned; because honestly if he had a chose in the matter he wanted no part of it. Sadly, Harry got the feeling he wasn't going to have much choice in that regard.