Ohayo, minna-san! Here's the chapter you've all been waiting for!

In answer to a few questions:

Yes, Fran will most likely be going with Harry no matter who wins the poll, and yes, they will be (sorta) best friends. Also, if they are paired, it will be fluff. Probably badly done fluff, 'cause I have absolutely no romantic experience aside from reading about it. Aside from that, the pairings will either be canon or gen—probably something different for Tsu-kun, simply because I like him.

Also, since this is my first fanfic, criticism is welcome, but flames will be use to roast Byakuran's marshmallows. Please tell me if you have any ideas, and if you think there's something that can be edited to make this fic a bit better. I'm still only a fledgling writer, and I would like to point out that any inconsistencies and incongruities are my own alone—'cause I have no beta reader. So if you have anything to point out, please tell me.

Also, TNM-Writer, thank you very much! As I said earlier I am a newbie to Fanfiction, so I have difficulty'fleshing out' the characters and making them realistic. So thank you so much for your opinion and I am planning to reread the previous chapters to try and make it better!

Anyway, enjoy the chapter—it's longer than my previous ones!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize, despite my attempts. Guess I'll just have to try again next time…*pouts unhappily*

Final Word Count: 4,561

Chapter 4—Reunited Twins

Charlus Potter looked around in awe. They were in Italy for the summer, and were staying in one of the smaller towns. It was beautiful, and they knew it. "Boo!" Charlus yelped and whipped around, wand out. "Sorry mate! Put the wand down!" Ron Weasley—Charlus' best mate—said, holding his hands up as the wand was pointed towards his throat. Charlus' winced. Ever since what happened in the graveyard in June, he had been jumpy. (What he didn't know was that he had PTSD, or Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder coupled with a slight DID problem—then again, every time they [he and Lily] went to a psychiatrist, the psychiatrist ended up running out of the room screaming. Hey! It wasn't his fault his Slytherin side was a sadist!)

Of course, his father, James Potter, hadn't helped in the least with his unpredictable mood swings. He had been pressuring Charlus to do better, and had taken to being physically violent (read: hitting him upside the head so hard he nearly fell over) when he got something wrong. James had told him not to tell Lily about their training sessions, calling it their 'guy secret' (read: do it or I'll beat the crap out of you). So, being the traumatized kid he was, Charlus did as he was told.

Now, however, he could be free from his father and be a kid for once.

However, on the way here while James was asleep, he had asked about his brother. Charlus let his mind wander back to those memories while Ron and Hermione led him around.

~FLASHBACK~

Charlus sat beside his mother, his father having fallen asleep in his chair a couple rows over. Charlus glanced at Lily, wondering whether to voice his question. Her bright red hair and vibrant emerald green eyes made him think that his father was extremely lucky to have met her. Taking a deep breath, he made up his mind. "Mum?"

"Yes, honey?" Charlus paused, getting his nerve together. "Tell me about my brother, please?" he coupled this question with his ultimate technique—the Puppy Dog Eyes of Doom (known as the greatest enemy of the upstanding parent since Time Began).

Lily looked at her son, and too late, tried to wrench her eyes away. Crumbling, she sighed. "Well, he was very much like you. Black hair as dark as night,"—at this she gently carded her fingers through Charlus' hair—"but with brilliant green eyes. As your father said when he first saw him, my eyes." Charlus listened, enraptured with her description of his twin. "He was so very odd though—always acting very knowingly, as though he always knew what someone was going to do. It made your father and I worry, up until the very day we dropped him off at the orphanage. Of course, I only found out later why he had that look."

Charlus pulled back from where he had leaned against her, looking at her eagerly. "Why, mum?" Lily smiled sadly. "He was just like your grandmum, Dorea—a True Seer—very, very rare. But it ran in the blood, it seems. I tried to convince James to take him back, but his mind was set. He didn't want Harry back, not until you both were eleven. Even then, I don't think your father would have taken Harry back—not willingly at least.

"It scared me, leaving Harry all alone in an orphanage at four years old—that's why you can't really remember him you know—and I fought as hard as I could against it. But James was dead-set to do it, and Albus took James' side: leave Harry in the orphanage until he was eleven, then take him back after he was reintroduced to the Wizarding World. However, I knew that it wouldn't work. I could feel it in my very bones—mother's instinct if you will. I knew that if Harry was forced to leave, he would never forgive us. Not even if he knew it would happen."

Charlus leaned against his mother, letting himself be entranced in her storytelling. He could just picture his twin—skinny, raven-haired, vibrant emerald eyes, a near copy of himself. Smiling happily, he relaxed and let Lily tell him everything about his twin that she knew.

~END FLASHBACK~

"—lus! Charlus! You with us, mate?" Charlus was brought back to reality by Ron's voice. "Uh, yeah," Hermione furrowed her brow, frowning. "Are you alright? You looked as though you were thinking about something," Charlus grinned sheepishly. "Nothing, 'Mione, nothing. Don't worry about it."

Hermione frowned deeper, but let it go. They continued in silence until they reached a wharf with warehouses lining it. (I know it's cliché, but I couldn't think of anything else) The sun was in the west, just beginning to set.

"Wow," Hermione breathed, looking out at the water reflecting the sunlight. Charlus shifted, not feeling entirely comfortable as random facts began to prod to the forefront of his head. (This happens to me all the time—it can be really strange to be talking about one thing when all of a sudden, you remember something like 'perforated paper is strongest at the perforation'. It can really distract you!)

However, all of a sudden, an explosion rocked the wharf. Hermione shrieked and Ron yelped. Charlus took a dive to the ground, drawing his wand. When they looked up, they saw a warehouse not that far down the wharf in flames, smoke rising like a pillar of blackness against the pale blue sky. Men wearing black suits came running out of the explosion, chasing after a figure. Said figure was dressed mostly in black, with some white.

But, just as the men drew closer to the figure, he vanished into thin air.

Charlus' eyes widened. That shouldn't be possible! All of a sudden, one of the men fell, blood spilling from his mouth as a knife buried itself in his neck. The men whipped around, but another at the other end of the group fell, convulsing. "What the hell?! Find him, you idiots! Find him!"

Charlus flinched as he heard the yells, and watched as the scene seemed to be painted red. A figure dressed in black—the same figure from earlier, Charlus noted—appeared out of thin air and began to run rife through the men, blood spattering everywhere.

Charlus faintly felt himself being dragged to his feet as Ron yelled at him to 'Get a grip!'. But everything was strangely muted, his vision tinted red; he could hear his heart pounding, terror gripping his body. He was vaguely aware of Ron dragging him alongside him towards Hermione, who was running towards the figure, screaming at him to stop.

But just as they caught up with her, she stopped dead. She was trembling as the last man fell to the ground, eyes glazed in death. Charlus looked up, trying to pull himself together, even as everything came back in full sound and color. The figure laughed lightly, sounding slightly insane as it did so. Scruffy black hair with long bangs covering most of the upper face; a thick black jacket with a white fur ruff; and from behind the bangs Charlus spotted one brilliant green eye. The color of his mother's eyes.

"Shishi~ what are peasants doing here~?" the figure said, licking its lips. Its face was spattered with blood, and there was a knowing quality about the green eye. Hermione shuddered and whimpered, her wand dropping to the ground. Ron seemed frozen to the spot, his face pale. Charlus was dazed when he saw that eye. "Shishi~ answer me, peasants~" the figure demanded, its patience obviously disappearing quickly. Ron gulped and raised his wand, trying to put on a brave face in front of the destruction in front of him. "S-stay away," he said, his voice trembling. Charlus froze, images flashing in front of his eyes.

Sickly green light glowing, hitting a young man (Cedric-is-dead); a rat-like man cutting his arm, reciting a verse (stay-away); a pale, snake-faced man with brilliant red eyes touching his scar on his forehead, causing excruciating pain to wrack his body (why-me?).

Without noticing, he sank to his knees, too caught up in his flashback. In his state, he didn't notice the red light flashing behind the figure, nor the figure collapsing. He didn't notice arms wrapping around him, nor did he notice his mother rocking him back and forth, tears spilling from her emerald eyes.

For he was too caught up in his memories of the past as his heart pounded like a drum in his ears to register these things.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Harry had been in a small town in Italy with his partner—Fran (he kind of wondered in his rather screwed up head as to why they had two illusionists, not including him)—to assassinate a target. It was supposed to be an easy kill, nice and simple so that Fran wouldn't be too overwhelmed, despite his seeming apathy.

But, Harry being Harry, everything became much, much more complicated. (Well, actually, it was completely screwed up, but he ignored that.)

They had just performed the hit when a rival family, the Dissonanza Famiglia, interfered. They had fought, he and Fran annoying their opponents more than actually thought possible. (needless to say, the paperwork caused by the fight would make Xanxus want to kill them)

Harry, in his infinite wisdom, had decided to end the fight with a bang. So he pushed Fran out of the area, telling him to go back to the hotel. Fran had shrugged and left, simply stating, "Just come back, Harry-sempai,"

Harry had lit one of his more volatile explosives, and threw it at his attackers (haha, Gokudera style!). Of course, he forgot he was in the vicinity, and ended up being thrown by the blast.

So he ran. He ran 'cause s**t had just hit the fan.

Which led to his current situation. Inwardly, he cursed himself for not remembering the dream he had had last night, but who would blame him? He had been having fun with his bombs! ( A/N: *sweatdrops* I think many people would, Harry-kun…)

Standing over the last person he had killed, the blood still staining his knife, he looked at the trio in front of him. A bushy-haired brunette who had dropped the stick she had been carrying, shivering and whimpering at the sight of him—though that could be because of the blood and dead bodies…nah, probably him; a ginger holding a similar stick in his hand, but only loosely; and a black-haired kid, with hazel-green eyes looking severely dazed. 'Probably first time in combat,' Harry noted absently. "Shishi~ what are peasants doing here~?" he asked, licking his lips to clear them of the metallic taste of blood. Twitching irritably at being ignored, Harry asked again, flicking the knife for further emphasis. "Shishi~ answer me, peasants~" he demanded.

The ginger raised his stick, gulping. "S-stay away," his voice was trembling, the sign of fear. Harry restrained one of his insane grins. The brat was scared of him!

Harry noted that the black-haired brat had frozen up, eyes glazing. Ignoring that, he returned his attention to the ginger, throwing the knife at him. The black-haired brat sank to his knees as Harry began to feel the pulse of adrenaline in his veins, his heart beating faster.

Harry heard footsteps coming up rapidly from behind him, and shifted just as he heard someone yell an odd word. "STUPIFY!" a red jet of light soared over his head. Harry grinned viciously, letting his bloodlust take control. He leapt upwards, using some boxes to help him, and got up to the roof of the warehouse next to the one he had just blown up. He laughed insanely as the people rushed to the trio of brats. One black-haired man glared up at him. "STUPIFY!" he yelled, and Harry ducked lightly. Harry giggled. "Shishi~ Kitty thinks the Doggy peasant should calm down~! Kitty didn't do anything to Bratty peasant Trio, ne~?" (I'm not going to deny it: living with the Varia has seriously messed him up, but he will have some traits of the others)

As the man seemed enraged by this remark, as well as stunned, Harry raised his voice. "Bye-bye, Trash!" he used his Mist Flames to make it seem as if he disappeared into thin air, a trick he had used earlier. He sprinted off towards their hotel, dwelling silently upon the hazel-green eyed brat. When he reached the room, he was greeted by Fran. "Are you alright, Harry-sempai?" the green-haired boy asked, seemingly apathetic. Harry grinned, "Fine, Froggy," Fran twitched.

Harry walked past him, intent on a shower. Fran glared—as best as he could while still being apathetic—at his back. Harry called over his shoulder as he entered the bathroom. "I know you're glaring, Froggy~" Fran's eyes widened slightly before he shook his head slightly. "Note to self: Harry-sempai knows everything."

In the bathroom, Harry sighed quietly, letting his mask slip slightly. "I wish, Froggy. I wish."

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Harry was truly screwed up in the head, and he knew it. It wasn't just because he lived with the Varia (that too, but…). It was because of his abilities. He could see the future, yes, but it came at a price. Unlike with the Sky Arcobaleno—Luce, Aria, and Yuni—he didn't have a curse to hold off the effects of seeing the future. There was a reason True Seers were rare. They usually died before they reached the age of fifteen.

This was because of the strain on the body—you could see, but the body took a certain strain. Of course, it wasn't just the body that took the strain, but the mind as well. If you didn't have someone help you sort out your visions, you would die, and no one would be able to help you; simply because the body and mind shut down from stress. He had known this since he was ten, having had Lady Time, Lord Space, and Dimension (he never could figure out whether Dimension was male or female) explain it to him. You weren't just born with the ability; you had to be able to bear it as well. Of course, this was for True Seers. Other Seers, ones who only saw the possible futures or only saw concrete futures lived much longer (hence Trelawney). Meditation to replenish your life force from the Ambient Energy of the Planet helped, but there was only so much the body could take.

And Harry, while being stronger than many, (who had actually made it to their fifteenth birthday) knew his body was slowly failing. He could feel his body giving out on him, and he intuitively knew that he most likely wouldn't make it past his twentieth birthday. His twenty-fifth at most.

Of course, his father, Bel, knew this as well: he couldn't hide anything from his father, no matter how hard he tried. Harry had yet to tell the rest of the Varia, his family, simply because they would worry. He hated to hurt his family, and he knew that telling them would hurt. So, for now, he kept the secret to himself.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Charlus woke the next morning feeling very, very achy. His entire body seemed to be complaining, and he groaned. "Charlus!" his mom's voice rang out, relief palpable. Painfully, he tried to sit up, only to be pushed back down by his mom. "Don't you dare, young man! How do you feel?" Charlus grimaced, and replied hoarsely. Luckily for his mom, Hufflepuff side was in control (I said he had DID—Dissociative Identity Disorder, or Multiple Personality Disorder, so don't kill me! And also, credit to sakurademonalchemist for this idea of naming his personalities after the houses!). "Achy, really, really achy,"

His mom let out a relieved laugh. "Thank God, Charlus. I was scared I had lost you," Charlus smiled wanly. "Well, you haven't," his mom engulfed him in a tight hug. "I know, and I still thank God, Charlus. Don't ever scare me like that again."

Charlus winced as his mom tightened her grip slightly. "Er, mom," he said, trying to shift away. "Oh, sorry," she said, releasing him and wiping at her emerald eyes. They sat in silence for a moment, before Charlus opened his mouth. "So, who was the guy from the exploding warehouse?" his mom tensed slightly. "We're not sure, honey. We asked around, and all we got was that he was most likely part of the Italian Mafia, but that's it." Just then, the door opened. "Um, Mrs. Potter?" it was Hermione and Ron. Hermione carried a tray filled with food, and the aroma made Charlus' mouth water. "We thought we'd bring some food,"

Charlus tried to sit up, and his mom helped him. "Thank you, Ron, Hermione, and please call me Lily," Hermione and Ron's eyes lit up as they saw he was awake. "Charlus! You're awake, mate!" Ron exclaimed, sitting down on the end of the bed. Hermione placed the tray in his lap and sat down on his other side from where Lily was sitting. He looked down happily at the food—a steak, mashed potatoes, mixed vegetables and an obviously fresh-from-the-oven biscuit. He grabbed the fork and knife and started on the steak, trying to keep from drooling at the heavenly aroma.

"So, how you feeling, mate?" Ron asked, and Charlus gulped down the piece of steak he was currently chewing. "Achy, mate; really, really, achy," Ron chuckled lightly, relieved at his best friend not being hurt. Hermione whacked his arm lightly, glowering at him. "Of course! How did you think he felt, Ron? Like he'd just been hit by a Cheering Charm?" Ron winced and rubbed at his arm. "Didn't need to hit me you know, 'Mione," Hermione snorted. "Of course I did," she said, adopting the bossy, know-it-all tone she had often used in their first year. Charlus nearly choked on the piece of steak he had been swallowing when she did that. Lily patted his back, and he gasped out, "Damn Ron, you're whipped!"

Ron and Hermione turned red, blushing furiously as Lily laughed openly. "Oh, good one, honey," Charlus grinned at their embarrassment as the two sputtered. "Thanks, Mum," he and Lily shared a grin. Prepare, Ron, Hermione; Team Matchmaker is on the move.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Albus Dumbledore was looking through his personal library, trying to find something to help his favorite grandson. He had just received news yesterday that Charlus had, in a way, been attacked. A warehouse on a wharf had exploded, and Charlus, Ron, and Hermione had been confronted by the perpetrator after they had killed people in front of them. He had been feverishly working since yesterday, attempting to find something to be able to find the perpetrator, to bring them to justice. The portraits of his predecessors watched him sadly before one spoke up. "Albus, try looking into scrying," Albus sat up suddenly, hitting his head on a shelf. "Of course! Thank you, Esmeralda," he looked around and grabbed the nearest books on scrying before summoning the others he had. He walked over to his desk and settled down to read, his mind on one thing.

Whoever hurt my grandson will pay.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

James Potter seethed. His son, his pride and joy, had been beaten by a muggle! A bloody muggle! His hazel eyes narrowed. His son had been hurt, whoever did this would pay. First, of course, was the matter that his son needed more training…

James Potter sat down, and began to write to an old friend. It was time to step up his son's training. He needed to be ready.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Harry sat up the next morning, throwing a knife at Fran. Fran held a bucket in his hands, and Harry was dripping wet. "Ow, Harry-sempai that hurts," he said monotonously, pulling out the knife, bending it and throwing it away. "Ka-ching~ don't do that, Froggy!" Harry snapped, readying another knife. Fran left before Harry could throw another knife, an almost-smile quirking his lips.

Oh yes. Teasing Harry-sempai was fun. Very fun indeed.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Harry stared out the window testily. They were driving towards the mansion, and the taxi driver seemed a little…uneasy from the Killer Intent Harry was leaking. Fran sat neutrally beside him, his mint green eyes staring blankly ahead. He had been testy since that morning, with Fran's very rude awakening. Harry made note of where they were, and spoke up. "Shishi~ here's fine, peasant," the taxi driver flinched. "A-ah, are you sure, Mr…?" Harry smirked viciously. "Shishi~ yes, peasant!" the taxi driver pulled over, and the two got out.

Fran and Harry had only one bag, which Harry made Fran carry. They walked the rest of the way to the base, knowing that a taxi driver could not be allowed to spill their location. Of course, if he had been allowed to know, Harry would have killed him—after all, dead men told no secrets; but then again, what would they do with the taxi?

Once they reached the mansion, Harry was promptly glomped by Lussuria, who was known as 'Big Sis Luss', or to Harry, Luss-okaa-chan. Of course, Fran was subjected to the same, with Lussuria smirking slightly. Harry felt rather confused at that—why would Luss-okaa-chan be smirking?

Harry shifted uncomfortably and leaned to the left, barely dodging a knife thrown by his father. Harry turned to see Bel smirking victoriously. Harry turned and saw that Fran had been hit. "Ow, Bel-sempai, that hurt," Harry snorted and went up to his father. "Shishi~"

"Ushishishi~"

"Shishi~"

Bel slung his arm around his (adopted) son and drew him up to their shared room. After he closed the door, Bel turned to his son, letting his smile drop into a worried expression. "Ushishishi~ are you alright?" his worry was masked by his usual laugh.

Harry sat tiredly on his bed (he still didn't know how on earth Bel managed that), and sighed. "Shishi~ not so well, father," Bel sat down beside him, and let his mask drop completely. "What do you mean?" Harry sighed heavily and flopped backwards. "I feel old, father. I may not look it, but my body is dying, failing. I knew this would happen, but not so soon. Really, I feel like I'm thirty rather than fifteen,"

Bel shifted and placed Harry's head on his lap. "Then I'll be by your side every step of the way," he said, carding his long, pianists fingers through Harry's messy black locks. Harry leaned into the touch, enjoying the feeling. "Every step?" he asked. "Every step," Bel assured his (adopted) son. Harry smiled, a truly happy smile, and relaxed, letting himself slowly fall asleep. "I love you, father,"

Bel smiled tenderly at his son, and leaned down, softly kissing his forehead. "As I love you, son,"

This was something they very rarely let themselves have—a chance to relax and show their more positive emotions; if only in front of each other. Bel watched as his son slipped into the warm arms of sleep before clenching his jaw. No matter how he tried to harden his heart against it, it still hurt; the fact that sooner, rather than later, he would lose his son—a person so close to his own heart that Harry's hurt was his own. Bel wondered idly if this was what he and Rasiel could have been under different circumstances—close enough that one's hurt was the other's hurt. Shaking that thought away, he kissed his son's forehead once again, treasuring the time he had with his precious person.

"As I love you, my son."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Charlus grinned as Ron and Hermione began sniping at each other once again. He glanced at his mother, and they shared a mischievous look. "You know, they say that people who argue a lot actually really like each other, Ron, Hermione~" Charlus sang out, enjoying the looks on their faces as they blushed scarlet. "We do not!" they chorused, before glaring at each other. Charlus and Lily shared another look before bursting out laughing. "What's so funny?!" the two just shook their heads, trying to stifle the laughs tumbling from their mouths.

/end/

So, how was it? I know that Bel was OOC at the end, but it was rather necessary, 'cause I can't see Bel showing care while in character. Anyway, this is the chapter where Charlus and Harry meet, but next chapter will show Dumbles tracking Harry down and showing up in the middle of a meal—I read this crossover called Pineapple Samba that I got this idea from-Jamesie-boy will be calling in his friend, and we'll be seeing Tsu-kun again.

Also, just for fun, here's a riddle some of you might recognize:

What can you see, and yet cannot see?

Try and solve it! (the phrasing is different from the original, but the answer is the same!)

Also, the translation of the Italian family is basically the Discord Family, funny, huh?

Anyway, see you next time! R & R please~

Ja ne, minna-san!
~Happy Camper27