Chapter 3

Grunnings was blown up that night and with that Odin Lowe's job was done. He took some photos at the scene on the prepaid phone he was using for the mission, texted them to the client, and by the time he got back to his hotel the final installment of his payment had been wired to his bank account.

After a few hours' sleep, Odin packed them up and hailed a car from an app-based taxi service to take him and Harry to the airport. The four-year-old had been quiet so far, save for the occasional compliant reply. Putting on his mask and leading Harry hand in hand into the airport, he looked like any other nervous little boy. He looked around anxiously, startled easily, and clutched his hand, walking closely beside him in a subconscious attempt to seek comfort.

"It's okay, son. We'll be home soon, alright?" he said, trying to act normal but not overwhelm the boy with too much affection.

The boy jerked, surprised, and after a moment of processing, he beamed up at him, overjoyed. "Okay, dad!"

Even the slightest act of kindness moved the boy.

It's a good thing I got that job, or our boy savior might not have even survived to start his first year at Hogwarts.

"We'll get you a mask at the counter in a moment." He replied. "I'll tie it for you so it fits."

Checking in at the kiosk went smoothly and then it was on to security. First, they had to wait for their turn at a hand sanitizer dispenser, then they waited to get their temperature checked, and then they waited some more for the plague health screening questionnaire. It was tedious, but he was a retired sniper and snipers were patient people. Better that than to get the deadly plague that had been sweeping through the colonies. Harry in particular was vulnerable to it because of the neglect he had suffered with the Dursley family.

Harry looked scared even as they were leaving the health screening area behind and heading to security, but he wasn't the only nervous child either.

He really wished he was good with kids.

"It's just like last time. They just have to check our bags and look at us with their machines to make sure we aren't bringing anything that's not allowed, and then we get to go."

Harry nodded, but he was too distracted to really process the information. "Okay, dad."

The guided Harry through the process, made small talk with the clerk when she brought up his time in the military, and they were on their way to baggage. His guns weren't a problem, being a retired Alliance soldier and a registered gun owner. After putting their bags on the carousel, he led Harry further into the airport to get something to eat. They still had an hour before the flight.

"We're going to stop here for breakfast." He said, setting their carry-ons down on a table. Harry sat down without being prompted, looking worn out from all the walking around but trying to hide it.

"What do you want to eat?" he asked as he glanced over the menu for something that sounded child-friendly. "They've got pancakes, bagels, muffins, and breakfast wraps."

Harry eyed him apprehensively. "I-I can have anything I want?" He nodded. "Ca-can I please have a muffin?"

"Sure thing, son. Orange juice, milk, or water?"

"Milk!" Harry replied, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

He's never had milk with breakfast, has he?

"Muffin with milk, got it. Stay here and don't talk to anyone, I'll be right back." He replied, leaving the boy to wait.

A few minutes later, he came back to the table and handed Harry his tray with his food on it. Just like the boy had asked for, he only got the one big muffin and a carton of milk. He didn't seem to be used to getting regular meals with how he'd wolfed down the pizza yesterday until he nearly made himself sick. The boy took off his mask and ate just as quickly as yesterday.

It doesn't look like much. I could eat that muffin in a few bites. What's a four-year-old supposed to eat, anyways?

He'd never married much less had kids and his job took a toll on what few relationships he'd had over his years in the service. He wasn't in a position to be raising a kid, much less teaching the boy who lived how to survive on his own. But now he was and he had to just make it up as he went. He hoped he didn't get the boy killed, or confuse him too much with the parent-child act.

Harry Potter was all alone in the world now, and neither the Ministry nor the former savior of the wizarding world Albus Dumbledore appeared to be looking out for him. Harry had to learn how to fight and how to work to survive or else he'd become just another colony street rat dying in the sewers of the plague. Or, perhaps just as bad, he'd end up in the foster care system which was rife with families that would see him as little more than another paycheck a month. And they certainly wouldn't be able to protect him from the kidnapping and ransom attempts that could come his way.

They finished eating, found their terminal, waited some more, and finally the call came for them to board the shuttle. He took Harry's hand and, upon looking down, saw that the boy was shaking like a leaf.

"Do you want me to carry you?" he asked, kneeling and holding out his arms in the universal offer for a toddler to be picked up.

Harry hesitated before reaching up towards him and letting himself be picked up. "Thank you, dad." He murmured, burying his head in his shoulder and hiding while he scanned his ticket and got on the shuttle.

As much as he didn't want to baby him, he thought that acting too stern could attract attention. He'd rather they blended in completely and nobody saw any reason to look at them and think about how he was treating his supposed son. He sat them down in an empty row, pleased that even after everyone had boarded there were still very few people on the shuttle. Between the Alliance's travel restrictions to the colonies and the plague, not many people were on board today.

Overall, Harry took the flight rather well. The flight attendant had given him the customary lapel pin with wings on it for being such a brave little boy, and he'd been positively delighted at the cheap little trinket.

For me? Really? Thank you!

He'd had to hurry Harry along and cut him off so he wouldn't keep thanking her. He figured it was the first gift Harry had ever received in his whole life. He treasured that cheap little pin, constantly looking down at it and smiling like it was the best birthday gift ever.

They picked up their bags and, after a quick bus ride and an elevator up to the ninth floor, they were home. Finally home. He relaxed walking in, feeling more at ease than he had in a week.

"Home sweet home, Junior. This is my apartment here in L1."

He kicked off his shoes before prompting the four-year-old to do the same. Harry looked around, walking in and just standing there, trying to take it all in. It was one-bedroom apartment on the ninth floor, room 903. Whereas the Dursleys house had felt dated and stuffy, his place was much more modern and decorated enough that it felt lived in even if he was out on jobs most of the time. He didn't want his home to look like another one of the Alliance's safehouses.

"I don't have a spare bedroom for you, so you'll have to sleep on the couch for now. I'll look into finding us a two-bedroom if one becomes available in the building. You'll get a bedroom eventually." He said, walking to his bedroom to unpack his suitcase with Harry trailing behind him.

"Really? I get a bedroom? For me?" Harry replied, looking at him, dumfounded, before he forced a nervous smile. "Thank you, dad!"

He turned to Harry and gently ruffled his hair. "Of course, Holden."

They ate a quick lunch of rice mixed with a raw egg and a small salad. Afterwards he turned on some cartoons for Harry while he made a grocery list on his phone. He took the time to schedule appointments for Harry, too. He needed a doctor's appointment for shots, an appointment with a dentist, and an appointment with the eye doctor. It hadn't escaped his notice that Harry had leaned in awfully close to the paper while he was practicing writing his new name and birthday.

Around mid-afternoon, he took Harry to the grocery store. He let the boy pick out his own pillowcase for his new pillow and two throw blankets and, to his surprise, the boy picked out the ones decorated with OZ-06MS Leo mobile suits.

His cousin had toy mobile suits in his room. Must be where he got it from.

After that, he had to buy the boy his own reusable cloth masks as well as some more clothes and pajamas. He only had a few outfits from the hotels, so he picked up a few more and some pajama sets so the boy had a whole week's worth of clothes to wear.

Then, it was time to buy groceries. A lot of groceries, all easy stuff that would last a while that he thought most kids would like. He wouldn't be taking missions for a while and instead would be dedicating the next several months to training Harry. He had plenty to live on for a while until the boy was ready to go with him on a mission.

He was surprised when Harry jumped up to help hand him bags at checkout, like he'd been doing it all his life.

"I'll help! I can do the bags." He exclaimed as soon as he watched him finish putting their purchases on the belt.

"Sure, junior. Thanks." He replied, watching as Harry grabbed the first bag he saw and gently pulled it off the carousel, trying very hard to lift the heavy bag of cans on his own. He had to take it from him before he dropped it.

He let him get the next bag, watching as he strained to reach high enough to drop it into the cart. He noticed that the cashier made a point to make the bags lighter for the child after witnessing their little exchange.

Well, at least he's a hard worker.

Harry helped him put the bags in the trunk of the car and then when they got home, he helped him carry them in, too.

"Here's a snack, Holden. I'll cook dinner for us in a few hours." He said, tossing a packet of rice crackers to Harry at the table.

He sat down with a drink to sip on for himself.

"Thank you, Mr. Lowe sir!" Harry chirped as he opened them up and started eating.

"Holden, I booked some appointments for you next week." He began, when the boy was about halfway through wolfing down his food. Harry paused, uncertain, but didn't stop eating.

"You need to get your vaccinations and annual wellness check up at the doctor's office, get your teeth cleaned at the dentist, and to get your eyes checked at the eye doctors. Because we're pretending to be father and son, I'll go in with you, okay?"

Harry nodded. "Okay, dad."

"This afternoon you're going to start the homeschool program on the tablet I bought you. I'll get you started on it after we're done here so you can work on it while I clean the house. If you need any help just come get me, okay?" he explained.

"Yes, sir." Harry replied.

Harry's homeschool program turned out to be pretty easy. It consisted mostly of videos and touchscreen-based activities and Harry had almost no trouble doing it on his own. Harry's appointments came and went. Harry a pair of glasses, got his teeth cleaned and a spare toothbrush and toothpaste set from the dentist, and a very long doctor's appointment.

Harry had gotten several shots today and was due for the rest of the shots he'd missed and could still receive in six months' time. He had told the doctor that Harry had been living with his mother, but was taken away because of neglect and abuse and that from what he could see, Harry wasn't used to eating regular meals. The doctor was very concerned about how underweight and malnourished he was and listed off some suggestions of things to buy at the grocery store for Harry. So after all the appointments, they had to go to the grocery store again and buy healthy food for Harry.

In their downtime, he had Harry either do his school work or practice with the unloaded gun he'd lent him. He didn't intend to get Harry his own gun until he knew how it worked, could clean it himself, and recite to him all the gun rules. They practiced the gun rules all day, every day, at random.

"Holden, tell me the gun rules." He said one day while he was making macaroni and cheese for them. He had a small can of green beans to split between them and a sandwich for himself to add to his plate.

"Never point the gun at someone you don't want to kill. Always keep your finger off the trigger until you want to shoot. You're 'sponsible to check and load your own gun. Always pretend its loaded just in case. Be aware of your surroundings. Is that right?" Harry replied, rattling off all the ones he knew.

"Good." Odin replied. "You forgot, you have to use the right ammo for the gun you're using. It has to match. So, what do you check for?"

"Check if it's loaded when you pick it up…?" Harry asked, trailing off uncertainly.

"Partially right. You also have to unload it and check the barrel to see if anything got stuck before you start practicing with it."

Harry had done a good job helping him cook breakfast, too. He would have simply asked Harry to get ready by himself, but the doctor wanted Harry to have well-rounded, healthy meals so he could catch up to other kids his age. So, he had Harry help him make a hot breakfast every morning. Most of the time it was something more traditionally Japanese, since they did live on a Japanese colony, but he did make sure to have English stuff that Harry liked too like marmalade.

For the most part he parented Harry by whatever he felt was right, but he did find himself googling what was age appropriate at times.

Even if it's not normal, he has to grow up quick. I won't be around forever. He needs to be able to fend for himself.

Was having Harry help him cook, instead of making him do it himself, the right thing? Was he babying him by asking him to take care of the toast and wash the salad greens, or should he get Harry a step-ladder and teach him how to fry his eggs himself?

About a month later, Odin felt like Harry might finally be ready to go out with him to the shooting range. They dropped into a weapons shop and bought Harry his own gun, a lightweight Sig-Sauer. He practiced on his own so Harry could get used to the sound. He wouldn't have protective headgear on over his ears on a real mission, so he would have to get used to the sound without them eventually.

When Harry seemed calm enough, he got him set up on their lane. They spent a lot of time together just going over how to hold it, aim, load it, and fire safely. He watched as Harry loaded his new sig all by himself.

"I'm all done, dad. What now?" he asked, nervously.

If he was my real son, he might be excited. He's uncertain about learning to kill people.

"Now, you shoot it. Remember everything I taught you." He said, gesturing at the human-shaped target on the other end of the lane over the counter.

"Okay, dad." He replied, hesitantly.

Harry stood up on the step-stool he'd provided, took a long minute to carefully aim his gun, and fired, yelping at the force.

The bullet barely grazed the target's arm, but he supposed it wasn't that bad for his first shot being only a four-year-old.

"Good job, son! I'm proud of you." He said, grinning down at him.

He noticed the other middle-aged man several lanes down glance at the two of them, his lips quirking upward in a brief smile before he went back to his own practicing.

"Thanks, dad!" Harry replied, smiling genuinely. His appreciation of being praised won out over his feelings of uncertainty and apprehension regarding his new path in life.

They practiced like that until Harry looked like he was starting to get over his fear in favor of trying to earn more praise from him. He was putting a lot of effort into trying to get a shot at the center of the target's body.

I'll have to train him out of that. He won't have the luxury of a frozen target and thirty seconds to stand there and fix his aim on a mission.

This became their routine. For the next several months they went to the shooting range several times a week. He made sure to give Harry plenty of normal experiences as well, for appearance's sake and for his own good. They went out to eat sometimes. They went to the park and kicked a ball around or he let him play on the playground with other kids his age. He enrolled Harry in swim lessons at the local pool. They even went to the museum once and to see a movie at the cinema.

As time went on, Harry began to genuinely smile more and hesitate and stutter less. He still startled easily and reacted with disproportionate fear when he thought he'd inconvenienced him. And perhaps he always would.

He's doing a lot better than he was four months ago.

Eventually, the time came for Harry's six-month checkup. Harry liked talking to the doctor while she gave him the rest of his shots and his plague vaccine.

"Guess what, miss? Dad's gonna take me to the store after this so we can buy me some more clothes cause I grew out of my old ones already. And we're gonna get cookies while we're out!" he exclaimed, like it was the most exciting outing ever.

Soon, the time came to test Harry for real.

He needs to experience killing something before I take him on a mission. I don't want him freezing in horror and getting himself killed.

So, he booked a train across the colony and a shuttle to another colony in the L1-cluster to visit his parents' old cabin.

Author's Note: I got this chapter started right away after the last one but I got stuck. Finally came back to it now. It's mostly just boring set up. I didn't think writing out an entire six-month period was the right step to take with this chapter, so I breezed through most of it. Also yes Covid-19 inspired this version of what could have just been an L2-colony plague. Idk. I also used Heero's supposed Japanese ancestry to make up his new home colony with Odin.

Also, Harry has blue eyes and dark brown hair because Heero does. I tend to picture Daniel Radcliffe as Harry instead of book Harry. So it works.