AN: Let me just say thank you for all the Favs, Follows, and Reviews that Chapter One of 'Vongola Primo' got; I hope you guys like this next chapter just as much!

And yeah, in some parts of this story I will completely screw over the information from canon and change it- but since this is technically AU, I don't care.

Chapter Two

Harry-oh, wait, he should call himself Giotto now, he wasn't Harry Potter anymore- often wondered what this new life was going to be like. He had a new family, one that hadn't died when he was too young to remember them. He looked more like his mother this time, with the same blond hair and light orange eyes, but his hair's spikiness and shape of his face was from his father.

They lived in a large town...city?... in Italy, one that the Vongola family had been part of for a long time, and the entire family had been considered a kind of nobility since then, protectors and leaders of sorts. All citizens knew that any Vongola would help them for no other reason than they needed aide. Ha-Giotto looked up at his parents, who were quietly bickering about what needed to be done today.

His mother's name was Aurora, ('named after the sunrise', she'd joked once), and his father's was Soren. Giotto didn't quite know what that meant yet; he was learning Italian pretty quickly since he was now Italian himself instead of British, but some things of the language escaped him still. (At least he wouldn't need to learn English, there was one silver lining already!) Aurora was kind yet fierce, never one to be underestimated, and Soren was calm and radiated a sort of aura that reminded Giotto of a leader, someone that protected all that he could.

He was happy, with his new parents, just like his first parents wanted.

Giotto smiled and lifted his arms, silently asking his mama to pick him up. Aurora di Vongola happily did so, smoothing her son's hair away from his face.

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Despite his prior life experience (or perhaps because of it? It hadn't been the best life after all...), Giotto didn't have a lot of friends. He wasn't as uncomfortable with attention like he was as Harry Potter, and that was a good thing because he seemed to attract people even more now! No matter where he went, people noticed him; most of the attention didn't seem to be bad, though, so at least there was that. But because of that attention, and the bad experience he'd had with Wizarding Britain as a whole, Giotto was always wary of people wanting his friendship and favor because of some ulterior motive.

But when he was around...six, seven years old he met another young boy around his age. He introduced himself as G. Giotto silently observed him with calm orange eyes; G had pale red hair, a shade of red unlike Ron's and the other Weasley's since it could be considered almost pink, and matching red eyes, with a fierce-looking tattoo on the right half of his face that resembled flames. G was...different. He was blunt and easily angered, a little bit prickly and defensive due to the less-than-good conditions their town had slipped into. But he was also fiercely loyal to those who earned it, unforgiving to those who betrayed what he holds dear.

"I want to change this place, G," Giotto said, eyes burning with his resolve. "My family has protected it ever since it was founded, and I don't...want my parents' sacrifice to be in vain." Either set of parents. "Will you help me?"

G studied him for a while-without the jealousy or hesitance he'd often seen in Ron- before he nodded and clasped his hand around the blond's.

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Giotto loved this town, city, however it was categorized.

It was his home, something he hadn't had as Harry. The Dursley house had been a cage, a personal Hell where he had been ignored, unwanted, mistreated, and Hogwarts had proved unsafe despite the castle itself's best efforts, later becoming a mass grave for those opposing Voldemort. His ancestors protected it, and Giotto wanted the people there, the people he'd known since birth, to be safe and not have to worry about themselves, their families, or their friends being brutally murdered because of that damn Mafia.

But however much he loved it, Giotto knew that the situation in his town was quickly sliding into very bad. Other nobles (maybe actual ones, maybe not) had moved in and truly didn't care about anything other than lining their own pockets with as much gold as they could get their hands on. As such, they despised Giotto di Vongola, one of three or four nobles who were trying to stop them. Unfortunately, the small military force in the town was in the corrupt nobles' pockets, which meant there was absolutely no protection for anyone else in the event of an attack. From Mafia famiglias or otherwise.

Giotto was the unofficial leader of the few decent nobles left, despite his young age, but he couldn't do too much since his enemies were waiting for just one chance to be rid of him. It was a delicate balance, a thin line, one that would tip over sooner or later. Time would only tell if it was Giotto who triumphed.

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Little by little, G softened up towards his friend, the steel-spined blond with too-old eyes, and they became very good at working together. Giotto had the dreams, the desires of protecting, of making things better, but it was G who brought those into viable plans. G was the strategist, the planner, and Giotto easily admitted that what he wanted to do might not work out without G. (Not to say Giotto wouldn't be able to make his dreams a reality-just that they might not work out quite like they should or that he'd hope for.)

"You're very much my right-hand man," Giotto half-jokingly said. "That means you're stuck with me and all my crazy antics!"

G growled and half-heartedly swiped at his friend.

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Giotto, G decided, was weird. It was like...the logic of the world at large just didn't click in Giotto's brain. Some of the things he did drove G up the wall and halfway into a grave, and the idiota would just blink and act like it was a rational thing to do! G had a feeling that if he were to literally tear his hair out every time the blond did something suicidaly idiotic or just flat-out bizzare, he'd go bald in less than two days.

Seriously, Giotto di Vongola could find trouble all on his own inside a locked room with nothing in said room besides himself!

Needless to say, that was the reason G eventually took up smoking. Tch. It was better than drinking, anyway.

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"I'm getting worried," Giotto admitted one day.

"About what?"

"The attacks, from the Mafia and other parties, are getting steadily worse," the blond mused. "And the people in town have told me the corrupt nobles are stepping up their game in trying to get rid of me. We'll need to act quickly." G nodded in agreement, resigned to the fact that even if he wanted to, he'd never been able to stop Giotto from doing what he felt was best. The only thing he could do was go along with whatever he had planned and try to keep the idiota from dying, and G would have his work cut out for him. Trouble always found Giotto, no matter how much he tried to stay out of it.

Personally, G was also worried about his best friend; the blond was certainly more mature than anyone else their age, but Giotto was still so young, only around...what, twelve, now? And yet he had the responsibility of his hometown squarely on his young shoulders, as well as all the lives in it. He needed to be more skilled, smarter, better than any kid that age should have to be. G could only help; he couldn't take that burden from his friend.

They desperately needed help; they were outnumbered, and no matter how strong their will was, right now there was little chance Giotto could succeed. But who would aid them? Giotto and G were kids, no one believed they could actually make a difference.

Giotto tapped his fingers on his chair. "I remember that Asari told me he'd come help if I ever needed it, but...he has his own dreams. I don't want to pull him away from that unless things get really desperate."

G snorted, shooting his best friend with his patented are-you-an-idiot look. "And what'll be "really desperate", huh? When you're in jail? Waiting for execution? Write him, Giotto."

The blond looked a little hesitant but nodded. G was scary when annoyed, and the redhead often got annoyed when Giotto decided to "ignore his common sense".

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As Giotto had experienced firsthand, there were many different worlds and realities besides the one you were born in. Travel between those different realities was nearly impossible, however, unless you had the aid of a celestial being, like a god, goddess, or Primordial like Life or Death. Some realities had magic, like the Wizarding World, some had elementals or element bending, some had Alchemy, one had Aliens and Time Travel with Blue Boxes, and a memorable one had warriors wielding sabers of light.

Yet despite knowing that, Giotto had never asked himself what was special about this world. Kinda silly of him, in hindsight.

"Flames," Giotto said blankly. "HOW THE HELL ARE MY HANDS ON FIRE?!"

G stared at his friend with his mouth wide open, ignoring his own red flames flickering over the barrel of his gun. "And your forehead," he said blankly.

Giotto was about two seconds away from a mental breakdown-"First the damn Wizarding World, then the damn Mafia, and now these flames?!"-when someone interrupted him.

"That's really impressive, signore."

The blonde whirled around, the orange flames sputtering out as he lost his focus. G let out a curse and caught his friend before Giotto could crash to the ground. Giotto held a hand to his head and winced. "I'm all right, G. Just got... a little dizzy there."

G looked up and glared at the stranger who was still standing there, although now he did look concerned for Giotto's health. "Why are ya just standin' there?!" G demanded. "We gotta get outta here before those damned nobles come breathin' down our necks!" The stranger nodded, coming to kneel beside Giotto and slinging one of the blonde's arms around his shoulder.

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Giotto groaned as he was lowered into a chair in their house, though this time it was from sheer annoyance. He was fine, blast it! But he knew better than to say it out loud; G wouldn't listen anyway. Said right-hand man came back and shoved a cup of tea in Giotto's hands, giving him a piercing glare so that the blonde would actually drink it. (Giotto still preferred tea over coffee, despite not being an Englishman anymore. Though he wouldn't say no to a cup of coffee if it was offered.)

"Thank you, G," Giotto said quietly, already feeling a little better. Then he turned to the stranger that he hadn't had a chance to talk to after the fight. "And I'm sorry about that; my name is Giotto. Giotto di Vongola. And this is my good friend and right-hand man, G."

The other man smiled. "My name's Cozarto, Cozarto Simon. It's a pleasure to meet you." G handed Cozarto his own cup, this time coffee, and then sat down in the other chair, giving a curt nod at Cozarto's thanks. "So...those Flames...was that the first time that has ever happened to you?"

Giotto and G exchanged looks, then Giotto frowned as he looked back at their gest. "Yes, that was." His cheeks flushed as he absently stirred his tea. "I..er...guess I didn't react in the best way." G sniggered, earning a glare from the blond. "Though how you're supposed to react when there are flames coming out of your hands, I don't have a clue-"

"I'm pretty sure screaming like a little girl was the right way; nine, maybe ten years old, I'm seeing pigtails and a frilly skirt-" G snickered, only to be interrupted by Giotto attempting to take his head off. Cozarto watched in amusement as the two chased each other around the living room for a few minutes before settling down.

"Well, those aren't regular flames," Cozarto finally said, taking a long drink. "Yours were orange and G's were red, correct?" Giotto thought back to when he'd seen those flames dancing on his hands, how warm and hyper-aware he'd felt, and nodded. "Those are different from the ones I'm personally familiar with; part of a different grouping. Anyway, they're called Dying Will Flames, named because they only appear when you are desperate to survive or protect something even if you die while doing so."

That...scarily made a lot of sense. Giotto and G exchanged a look; it had been a Mafia group they'd fought, just six or seven thugs, but then G had slipped in the middle of the fight. Either he had lost his balance on the uneven street or one of their opponents had tripped him, but one of the thugs was quick to take advantage of G's momentary helplessness. For you see, G had lost his grip on his gun on the impact with the ground, causing it to clatter far out of his reach.

Giotto had felt an intense amount of fear for his friend's life and determination to keep him from dying; "I must save him, even if I die in his place!" And those beautiful orange flames had burst from his hands (and apparently his forehead if what G had said was true), the fight becoming almost slow-motion. Giotto had easily taken out his own opponents before moving on to help G. G had gaped at him, red flames of his own flickering over his fingertips and the barrel of his gun that was still a little out of the redhead's reach.

Cozarto kept silent for a few minutes, probably letting them absorb the information, before continuing with his explanation. "There are two main groups of Flames; Flames of the Sky and Flames of the Earth. For some reason that I don't think anyone's ever actually discovered, the Flames of the Sky come in seven different colors, those found in a rainbow. Red, orange, green, and so on. And each color is assigned a different name due to their characteristics. Red Flames are called Storm Flames, for example, while orange Flames are Sky Flames."

"Are there any other differences in the Flames besides their color?" G asked, becoming interested.

Cozarto nodded. "Each Flame has a specific...power, I guess would be the way to put it. From what I've seen, Sky Flames are kind of like the glue that holds the other Flames together without the whole thing imploding. Storm Flames have the power of Disintegration; there's hardly anything they can't destroy, and they can even disintegrate other Dying Will Flames."

"What about the others?" Giotto asked, setting his tea down. "And what about my Flames? What else can they do?"

Cozarto shrugged. "I don't really know. Sky Flames are rare, only passed down in families, and I guess that people around Skies are really protective; you're the first Sky that I've even been able to talk to without their Guardians trying to keep me away. And my Flame is part of the Flames of the Earth, so I don't have any personal experience with Sky Flames."

"Guardians?" G asked, perking up.

"Yeah. That's apparently what the other Flames are when they're with a Sky." Cozarto frowned, trying to recall exactly what he'd seen the few times he'd come across a Sky. "It was like the Sky was their leader, their heart, so they needed to protect them. One of the Skies told me it was like a bond between their Flames and their Guardians'."

Giotto nodded. But he had a feeling that 'spiritual glue' wasn't the only thing his Sky Flames could do. The only question was how to find it out.

Cozarto stood, readjusting his hat. "I think I need to get going; my friends worry about me. They think I'm a trouble-magnet."

G scoffed. "I doubt you're as bad as Giotto." Said blonde flushed but didn't deny it. After all, only he would get a rare Flame type when he didn't want more attention than he already got. That damn Potter luck; couldn't even leave him alone in a new life.

"Thank you for explaining things, Cozarto," Giotto said, smiling at the other. "At least we're not completely in the dark about this now." Cozarto grinned.

"Don't mention it."

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Miles away. someone scoffed as his opponents dropped like flies. A glint of metal flashed for a single moment before his weapon was stashed in its hiding spot. He ignored the pained whimpers and groans as he moved towards the small town that was his goal. Teeth were bared in a predatory smile as he said, "Perhaps this Vongola will actually be of interest..."

Dun dun dun!

But for the record, I HATE this chapter! Writing Cozarto Simon was like pulling teeth! And it doesn't help that I haven't read any of the manga (I can't find it anywhere and it's driving me nuts) or seen if he's in the anime at all, so I had to look him up on the Reborn Wiki page. However, it just gave me the basics of his personality , so if he's out of character, I apologize.

Other than that, I hope you guys like my take on how Giotto and G unlocked their Flames; I couldn't find any information on how it happened in canon, so I had to make up something.

Read and Review!