Warnings: Pre-Slash, very AU, spoilers for Harry Potter books and Ouran manga, mentioned character death, set one and a half years after Part 1, still not complete, coarse language, way too bloody long
Disclaimers: Harry Potter belongs to JKR and associates, of which I am not one. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisuko Hatori and associates, of which I am not one. I do not own the characters or settings in this story (but the situation is made-up by me). Set as an AU of HPatHC (it'll make sense as you read more). Beta'd by KounetsuDeb - on that note, you should read some of her stuff. She's got some interesting pairings going for Harry, including Ranka/Harry and Tamaki/Harry. The stories aren't half bad either ;)
Featuring: LovedButKindaEmo!Harry, SlightlyLessEvil!Kyouya, Hyperactive!Tamaki, Alive!Lily, and others
A Slight Alteration Part 2
"I'm... going to go to Tokyo for a while."
Harry stared at the ceiling, memorizing the flat patterns of the plaster and paint. He was seventeen years old, a wizard of age, and even in the year and a half since his last trip to Japan, he seemed to have aged more than he should have, yet his body was still that of a seventeen year old. Though he was still a bit under average height, standing at one hundred and seventy centimeters, Harry's body was held with a tight confidence even as he lay on Hermione Granger's couch.
"When did you decide this?" Hermione was half turned away from the laptop computer she had been playing games on. Harry had arrived three hours ago and laid down on her couch. Nothing was said in that time, and by the hollow look in his eyes Hermione knew better than to try to get Harry to talk before he took his own initiative.
"A little after I got here," Harry admitted. His voice was heavy and a bit rough from apparent disuse. In reality, he had overused his voice to point of being temporarily mute until the appropriate medical procedures could be enacted. "I need to get away. I want to see Kyouya and René."
"But you haven't written them in –"
"Nine months, twenty-four days," Harry continued her sentence smoothly. "I sent them both e-mail yesterday though. René freaked out of course, wanting to know why... Kyouya knew something was wrong. He's smart; you'd like him, though he's manipulative..." he paused and sat up slightly, glancing at the coffee table. Hermione had set a soda there when he arrived, but it was flat now. He drank it anyway.
"You don't think I'll let you go alone, do you?" Hermione asked after a moment. Harry hadn't continued speaking after drinking the flat cola and instead contemplated the brown depths. Dark brown. Smooth, creamy, lustrous brown just like – "Harry, you know Neville and I will follow you to the ends of the earth."
"I know." This had been said so many times that Harry couldn't say anything but "I know" to the statement. It was reflex, but that didn't make it any less true. "He's manipulative and kind of cold when you don't know him, but he's a nice bloke in his own right. I've known him for so long that I can tell how much of a mother hen he is. In the email he offered to let me stay at his house if I need to."
"That's nice of him," Hermione stated slowly. It occurred to the Boy-Who-Lived that Hermione might be lost as to what he was taking about, since he'd boomaranged back to the other conversation.
"Kyouya, I mean," he informed her. "Having non-magic friends is funny. As a kid it was just Neville, but then I met Kyouya and we were friends and then I met René and he wanted to be my dad and I think he still thinks he's my dad... he got together with Haruhi. They make an interesting match. I only really met her the once, but she's very level-headed. She's a lot like you I think, except... oblivious? Yes..."
He trailed off again and returned to contemplating the ceiling. That shape looked like a three-headed lizard monster, and to the left was a laughing woman. A falcon was near the light, but if he tilted his head it looked like a dra-
"I'll make sure to book flights for Neville and me with yours." Harry only nodded and closed his eyes, sighing. Things weren't right. They were so not right. "Just relax."
Harry made a noncommittal humming sound and continued to lie on the couch, thinking.
Everything was fucked up.
Harry returned home that evening after laying on Hermione's couch all day, only speaking enough to tell Hermione when he wanted his ticket for – as soon as humanly possible, tomorrow – and to insist that he pay for them. Hermione didn't resist much and let Harry punch in his credit card number. After being friends for so long, he supposed she knew better than to argue with him about money.
If things weren't how they were, Harry might have smiled.
Would Kyouya and Tamaki recognize him? Things had changed from childhood. Even when he visited in sixth year, things were different. He had been a kid escaping from a bit of darkness for a while, taking his godfather with him on a little tour of his favorite country and having fun with friends.
Now he was an adult escaping from paparazzi, dark memories and bloodstains with two friends in hopes of maintaining his sanity.
The plane trip was so utterly... normal. It was the beginning of summer vacation and the airport was busy, but Harry was always a VIP. Muggles knew his face; nowhere near as well as wizards, but muggles knew the face of the new Lord Potter, the recently knighted teenager... most everyone had some inkling of who he was supposed to be.
And then they were flying. First class all the way, in a cordoned off sector of the plane to keep visitors away. Neville was bigger and stronger than Harry, but not enough to be proper protection, not enough to intimidate curious fans. He was the largest of them, having lost the baby fat back in fifth year when a growth spurt brought him up to nearly six feet in height. His dirty blond hair was cropped close to his head, and he looked like a just another rich teenager going on vacation.
Harry knew Hermione was sending him concerned looks the whole way, but it was in her nature.
"Three days," he murmured softly, eyes on the clouds. Flying... when was the last time he went flying? Months... maybe not even for a year or more. That sounded about right. Back when he still had some free time. On a date with Ch-
"Harry, you can't blame yourself!" Neville grasped both of Harry's hands in his only to receive a shrug in return. Harry didn't want to be touched right now. No matter how tactile he had been, the idea of touching people... didn't matter. There was no reason, no appeal. "It wasn't-"
"Don't say it wasn't my fault," Harry's tone was cold. His throat had finished healing the night before when he took the last of his potions and no longer cracked when he spoke. "Don't you dare say it wasn't my fault. If I had been three days faster... if I had been smarter and figured out where the damned thing was being kept... if I hadn't let him come with us and get captured –"
"Charlie wouldn't want you to beat yourself up, Harry," Hermione was leaning on his side, and Harry didn't have the heart to move. He was up against the other edge of his seat already anyway. "He loved you, and -"
"And, irony of ironies, the death of the man I loved was what made it so I could kill Voldemort," Harry scoffed. This conversation was corny, and did they really think it would help? Charlie was dead for three days before he defeated Voldemort. The funeral was only a week ago... "I don't want to hear it. I..." He stopped and his vision grew blurry and unfocussed. His gaze drifted back to the clouds. They were descending, and the seatbelt light clicked back on; Harry hadn't removed his to begin with.
At his side, Hermione gave him a saddened look. He noticed of course, but couldn't bring himself to care.
It was almost the end of June, 2008. He had defeated Voldemort almost two weeks ago. The entire past year had been chaotic, but somehow he had survived. As planned, Dumbledore was killed by Snape in a play to earn Voldemort's trust; Harry still disliked the greasy man, but it was because of that merciful killing of Dumbledore that the war managed to turn out as well as it did. After all, if the old man had died of the curse he had been afflicted with by the horcrux, things would have been even worse.
Only two months prior to this, Charlie Weasley had come to Hogwarts as the temporary Care of Magical Creatures professor. Before Harry even realized it, he was dating the man. Everyone knew, but because of the way Dumbledore looked upon the relationship with favor, no one protested.
It was only by sheer luck that Voldemort didn't get one of his own into the Minister post when Scrimgeour "vanished." If Harry hadn't been of proper age to use the Potter vote and if Sirius hadn't had the Black vote in the Wizengamot, Death Eaters would have controlled the Ministry and Hogwarts, probably.
Because, really, with a name like Pius Thicknesse, there was no way the man wasn't a Death Eater.
Harry returned to Hogwarts with his friends in September, already having found one more horcrux in addition to the old diary and the stone ring since the old man's death. The locket had been sitting in the old abandoned house that Sirius had inherited from his family; it was to be torn down, and when they were clearing out anything of value, Remus found the true locket that Dumbledore had tried to find with Harry. Unfortunately, the horcrux had, in a bid for self-preservation, latched onto Remus and used him to try and get to safety. The house was destroyed with him still in it, and Remus died with the fragment of Voldemort's soul.
At school, Harry started up Dumbledore's Army again. He taught his fellow students how to defend themselves, how to duel. Even though Sirius and Remus had been drafted by McGonagall to teach, the extra training proved beneficial. During a meeting, Luna Lovegood had found Ravenclaw's diadem. Only two horcruxes remained.
Over Christmas Break, the Ministry seized the assets of several escaped Death Eaters, including the Lestrange family. Hufflepuff's cup was found, and Harry bought it at a Ministry auction. It joined the pile of destroyed objects in Harry's trunk, and so it came time for Harry to await Voldemort's move.
In May, Charlie was kidnapped. He and Harry had been dating for a year by this point, and Voldemort snatched him by letting a Common Welsh Green loose in London and then capturing him while the dragon tamer was subduing the beast. Harry could do nothing to rescue his boyfriend and was tortured nightly by images of Voldemort doing unspeakable things to the redhead. Charlie was tortured for information and just for fun, which resulted in Snape's true loyalties being revealed; the Potion's Master died in early June.
As seemed to be tradition, on the last day of Exams, something bad happened. Harry went to sleep after his Arithmancy exam, and saw Charlie finally die from the torture. That was the second boyfriend Voldemort had had killed. He didn't even have the decency to do it himself; the first time he'd had Barty Crouch do it at his resurrection, and the second was performed by Bellatrix Lestrange. He left as soon as he woke up.
Three days later, Harry had infiltrated Malfoy Manor, killed Nagini, and left the mansion in the middle of the night with Voldemort's head on a pike. None of the Death Eaters saw him come or go, but they did see when the aurors appeared and started catching them.
And now Harry felt completely drained. After Charlie's death he was ruled by the need for vengeance. Now he just wanted to escape.
"I'll get our things from the luggage rack," Neville volunteered.
"I can get my own," Harry supplied. He stood from his chair, taking a moment to undo his buckle, and grabbed his carry-on from the bins over their heads. It was the only visible luggage he'd brought for the entire trip – likewise, Hermione and Neville only had their carry-on – but inside he had far more of his things than even his friends would guess.
Ah, the wonders of magic.
They left the terminal and went through customs seamlessly. There was nothing wrong with their identification, and the scanning machines saw only what the teens wanted to be seen within their carry-on. Wooden wands wouldn't draw the attention of metal detectors.
It occurred to Harry that sneaking deadly weapons like wands shouldn't be so easy as this. But the idea of "going muggle" didn't appeal, and he wasn't about to leave his wand behind.
As soon as they were in the entrance of the airport, Harry caught sight of a certain glasses-wearing person. He directed Hermione and Neville to follow him, and found Kyouya with Tachibana – one of his bodyguards – were waiting for them near the doors.
"Kyouya, it's nice to see you again," Harry smiled at his friend, but he knew that Kyouya would see it as hollow. When he visited two winters ago, he'd gotten to know Kyouya's shell-personality better, and he realized that the false smile he currently bore was stolen straight from the older boy. "These are my friends from Britain, Granger Hermione and Longbottom Neville."
"Thank you very much for agreeing to let us stay in your home on such short notice," Hermione bowed politely, an action that Kyouya returned. If she didn't know everything, Harry would wonder at how she knew such a custom. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
Unlike Hermione, Neville stuck strictly to the Western etiquette that was drilled into his mind back in England. "It's nice to meet you; Harry's talked about you and René a lot, so it's great to finally meet someone who's been friends with him almost as long as I have." He and Kyouya shook hands, and Harry noticed with a detached sort of interest that Kyouya's interest was piqued by both of Harry's friends in some way.
Probably because Harry never mentioned that his friends spoke Japanese, since it wasn't a popular language to learn in Britain. Of course, they were really just using a translation charm, but it would seem a little weird to Kyouya since he didn't know about magic.
"The pleasure is mine. I have a car waiting outside," Kyouya informed them. He sent a pointed glance to the bags each of them had – in Harry and Neville's cases, a backpack, and in Hermione's, a rainbow beaded bag – as he said the next part, "Is that all you brought?"
"Yeah," Harry answered for his friends. "I've never been here in summer, and we decided that rather than pack clothes we might not need that we would just go shopping today or tomorrow to be certain we have proper attire." This wasn't entirely true; they all had clothes for any weather but snow, but they were going shopping anyway.
"I see," Kyouya sounded dubious. Maybe it was because of the bad excuse or that he had caught on to how utterly wrong everything was, but he didn't say anything else. Instead he escorted the three magical people to where his car waited.
Harry wondered if coming to visit Kyouya and René in Japan was really any better than wallowing in Britain, but he tucked the thought away. Here, no one wanted to become his significant other, a position that Harry had declared permanently out of the question.
He couldn't deal with the heartache of yet another boyfriend killed because of him.
Ootori Kyouya was not a stupid man. On the contrary, he was really quite brilliant. He was top in his graduating class at the prestigious Ouran High School – as well as in the Elementary and Middle sections – and was already considered the top student among the first year students in the Ouran University (1) Medical and Business divisions. In addition to his academic achievements, Kyouya managed to turn the stupid idea of his friend Suou Tamaki (otherwise known as René Tamaki Richard Grantainne) into a money making venture all while making important business connections with his fellow students.
These things, along with Kyouya's friendship with one Potter Harry, the heir to the Potter Company – perhaps the most important of all the Ootori Group's various business partners – made Kyouya not only more likely to inherit, but a very smart, devious, and observant person.
And yet there were three people who seemed to think they had him fooled.
The first of these was Potter Harry. It was obvious to Kyouya, who knew human nature quite well, that something had traumatized him and that he had come on this vacation not to relax, but to get away. His smiles were empty, his laughter sardonic, and he was very much not the Harry that Kyouya had known since childhood. To be fair, Harry seemed to recognize that Kyouya had caught on to his act, but he also wasn't about to fess up, nor was he going to stop.
The second was Longbottom Neville. According to Harry's letters throughout the years, Neville had been his friend since they were infants, practically brothers, and while Neville wasn't as rich as Harry, he was heir to a title of lordship. Perhaps that was why, even though he played mother hen to Harry, he also kept between the Ootori and Potter heirs. He fretted about Harry madly, and definitely knew what was wrong with the boy, but whenever Kyouya made a move to help his friend, Neville was there saying there wasn't anything wrong.
If Neville's efforts were irksome, then those of Granger Hermione were insufferable. She was a brilliant woman, that much was obvious, but she openly underestimated Kyouya. She acted as though there were things she knew that he could never even dare to fathom, and one of those things seemed to be what was wrong with Harry. Hermione would send Kyouya pitying glances whenever Neville did his mother hen thing, but she would never help him, either. She wouldn't reveal the information that could help Kyouya understand, because she so obviously thought that if she and Neville - two people whom Harry had been talking to for the past year, unlike Kyouya and Tamaki - couldn't help Harry, then no one else could.
These people were seriously pissing Kyouya off.
Kyouya didn't like being worried; there were very few people he would allow himself to become worried over, and in the unlikely event that he did become worried, those people wouldn't even know it. The fact that his worry was futile and not something he could personally control or abate made him angry, a chink in his mask. That was mask was something only three people were, thus far, allowed behind: Kyouya's older sister, Harry, and Tamaki. Having a chink in his mask meant that other people whom he didn't want to know him could catch a glimpse.
This only served to make him madder and the chink more visible, because he knew he could not get rid of the cracks that were quickly appearing in his long-since cultivated persona.
Not wanting to lay blame upon himself or Harry, Kyouya decided that his current state was all to blame on Neville and Hermione. Maybe Tamaki a little too, since he was very rambunctious on the days he had come by to see Harry, and because he was feigning ignorance of Harry's current state, as if pretending the problem wasn't there would make Harry happy.
Maybe it would, maybe it wouldn't. But it sure as hell didn't make Kyouya feel very happy.
Slowly, he drew in a breath of crisp, air-conditioned air. One. Two. Three. He exhaled, then repeated the exercise several times. He was not going to get worked up. He was not going to allow the cracks to spread any further. Already he had the mental equivalent of rubber cement, spackle, and paint ready to deal with it.
If Harry wanted to be distant and hide behind a mask, even among friends, then Kyouya would do the same.
The car stopped in front of his house, and Kyouya left the car with only a small glance to Tachibana. He knew even that much would make the man happy, and there was no need to add verbal thanks - which, surely, would make the man euphoric - on top of the hefty paycheck that the man already received from Yoshio. (2)
"Hi Kyouya," Neville was sitting in the garden, apparently his favorite place in Kyouya's entire manor. Likewise, the gardens at the Suou Mansion had drawn his attention; apparently he had a love for plants and had been top of his year in Herbology. Kyouya was long since used to the fact that Harry's school in Britain had strange focuses for class subject, including herblore - both old and new - zoology, astronomy, and strangest of all, fortune telling, so this idea wasn't too weird to him. Apparently the Longbottom heir was intending to have a career in herbology, and as much as Kyouya currently disliked the younger man, he wasn't going to make the gardens off-limits to a guest.
Although the way the Englishman assumed he could go yobisute with his host was rather annoying and made Kyouya wonder if he could make the gardens off-limits after all. It would certainly nail a bit of decorum into Neville's head. Hopefully.
"Neville-san," Kyouya nodded his head, because he was a polite. "Find anything interesting?"
"There's an interesting breed of Tulips," Neville still hadn't looked up from the plant he was currently studying, a rhododendron. "I found them this morning. Seemed a bit vicious."
That was another thing that Kyouya had to get used to over the past week. Neville constantly personified plants. The roses were depressed, the oak was mocking the English ivy, which in turn was getting angry and trying to choke out the daffodils in revenge. Harry knew strange people, but Kyouya kept his opinions to himself on that matter.
"They are red," Kyouya stated.
The fact that Neville nodded along, as if this statement made sense, made Kyouya consider twitching. "They're yellow bulbs, too," Neville informed him, finally looking away from the rhododendron with some final notes being made on what was most definitely a scroll of parchment with a feather quill. "You can drop the honorifics, y'know."
Kyouya hummed a noncommittal response; he wouldn't drop the honorific. It was enough of a concession that he wasn't calling Neville by his surname already, and further feigned closeness would surely make the Ootori gag.
"Oh, and some guys dropped in, friends of yours apparently. René was with them, and the maid didn't look too surprised so I'm assuming they weren't lying. They're with Harry and Hermione in the house somewhere. I wanted to finish up out here before I joined them though."
Kyouya withheld an irritated twitch at the vagueness. "I see." It was likely the Host Club then. Kyouya's last class of the day ran later than any of the others who were in the University section by now, at least on Tuesdays, and the Club itself would have ended as well. He wondered in a vague sort of way if the younger Hosts - Morinozuka Satoshi (second year, Charismatic Type), Haninozuka Yasuchika (second year, Serious Megane Type), Hattori Hiroshi (first year, Cute Bashful Type) - or the current trainees - Matsuoka Ryuu (Middle school third year, Prince Type) and Hattori Hideki (Middle school second year, Strong Silent Type) - had come or if it would just be the crowd that Harry would have already met.
This was answered as he was approaching his bedroom to put his things away and - hopefully - change into casual clothing before he was noticed. A burst of raucous laughter that could only be the combined effort of the Hitachiin Twins (current Co-Presidents of the Host Club), Satoshi, and Hiroshi came from the private living room near to the sleeping quarters of the Ootori family. It was an intimate living room that only those very close to the family ever entered.
Kyouya had to restrain himself slightly, but did so admirably. While he didn't know the trainees very well, as a still-active alumnus of the Club, he was going to be courteous to both of them; Satoshi and Yasuchika were already used to his nature, and the first years had to get used to it during their term as trainees. As it was, Kyouya had only barely gotten to know the trainees, enough to put them in categories but nothing more.
Calmly, the youngest Ootori went to his room, changed clothes, and returned to the hallways that opened into the living room.
Were he to claim surprise at what he saw, it would be a lie. Tamaki was "holding court" as the center of attention, still in his uniform, as were the rest of those currently attending school. On his left sat Fujioka Haruhi, Tamaki's girlfriend of more than a year, with her hair tied back in a haphazard ponytail as she filled in what looked to be a crossword puzzle. To Haruhi's right sat the twins, who were actually wrestling on the floor about something, between the love seat that Tamaki and Haruhi were seated in and Hermione's chair.
Hermione was looking at the fight with a bemused expression, but looked a bit aggravated as she had a book in her lap - one of Kyouya's books that he knew he kept in his room, which had been locked the morning. It seemed Granger was a know-it-all and an expert lock-picker. Seated on the floor beside Hermione's chair was Harry, his black curls going everywhere as usual as he sat criss-cross, eyes closed but obviously paying at least cursory attention.
With their backs turned to Kyouya, Satoshi and Yasuchika were expounding upon something to their elder brothers. After entering the university section, Hani - who now insisted that he be called by his first name or some variation thereof - had matured some. He now stood at the average height for a woman rather than being unbearably short, though he still had a childish look about him. He could pass for a middle school student at least, and while still carried Usa-chan around frequently, he left the stuffed bunny behind as often as not. Mori hadn't changed much, though he had gained a few more cm in height.
Further down the line, Hiroshi and Hideki - an inseparable pair of brothers - were doing... whatever it was they did. Probably conspiring again. Hiroshi was rambunctious and wild, a childish and boyish looking (though not to the extent of Mitsukuni, rather with a face promising a handsome young man) prankster. His wide blue eyes drew girls in, and his daring flirtation kept them.
Hiroshi's younger brother Hideki was reserved, a shy guy who hid behind a front of stoicism. Hideki looked older than he was, like an older high school student rather than a mid-level middle school student, and had a bad boy look with a quiet nature. His brown hair was worn long, usually tied in a low ponytail, and his piercing black eyes gave an extra air of mystery to the young Host-in-training. They were like a new Mori-Hani combo, but completely their own, and without the underlying master-servant loyalty, though Hideki seemed to fill the big brother role even to the point that Hiroshi addressed him as "aniki" sometimes.
The last of the Hosts, the trainee Ryuu, was sitting on a chair to the right of Tamaki and Haruhi's love seat, hanging off of every word from the Prince Alumnus. Ryuu was every bit as dashing as Tamaki and had the same sort of enchanting voice, though rather than having a foreign, ethereal prince-like charm, he was more the traditional Japanese prince. Very proper, but also quite ready to cut loose.
"Good evening," Kyouya greeted as he entered his living room. "I trust everyone is having a good time?" His tone was laced with an imperceptible level of annoyance. Were it not for the fact that he didn't want to scare off the trainees - difficult as it might seem, it was possible - he would have let more of his ire creep into his tone, but he doubted very much that a dark voice would be easily overcome by his smiling mask. So he masked his voice as well.
"Kaa-san! Welcome home!" Tamaki left the couch immediately and pounced on the Shadow King. Were it not for years of experience with dealing with his blond friend, Kyouya would have been knocked off his feet in an instant. As it was, he managed to keep his balance and ignore the laughter from several of the Hosts and the bemused look that had crept onto Haruhi's face. She was used to Tamaki showing attention for other people, and was likely quite secure by this point that she wasn't actually playing second fiddle for more than about ten seconds in each instance.
"I told you not to call me that," Kyouya stated mildly, prying the Frenchman off with practiced ease. "No matter your strange fantasies, you are not Harry's father and I am very much not Potter Lily."
Tamaki pouted, but dragged Kyouya into the circle regardless, even going so far as to grab a chair himself and drag it between Ryuu and Hideki so Kyouya wouldn't have to do it himself. Despite his own preferences, Kyouya was soon involved with the little party and had the cook bring in food for everyone - they had snacks, but not food, and Kyouya wasn't even going to touch those little creme-filled pandas (3).
It wasn't long, however, until Kyouya realized something was especially off with Harry that evening. He was interacting with everyone when the mood struck him, though mostly he just sat at Hermione's feet feigning sleep (or Neville's when the other Englishman had returned from the garden and wasn't covered in dirt), except for one person. There was one person among all those in the room who Harry seemed to refuse to so much as glance at.
Considering Mori looked just as confused by this as Kyouya felt, it could be safely assumed that the second year university student hadn't done anything to warrant such treatment.
Kyouya, it seemed, wasn't the only one to notice the behavior. Tamaki tried several times to get Harry involved in a conversation with Mori about history or any number of other things that they could potentially speak about. In those instances, Harry was even more tight lipped than either Mori or Hideki, and would studiously ignore everyone until a new conversation topic came up. At the moments of most pointed ignorance, Hermione would get that pitying "I know things you can never know" look in her eyes.
It wasn't until ten o'clock, when most everyone had been picked up to go home (excepting Tamaki, whose car came only for Haruhi since he had decided that a school night was the optimal time to have a sleepover), that Kyouya finally called Harry out.
"If you don't like Mori-senpai, you should just say so," Kyouya stated. He was sitting on a couch in his pajamas - some Tamaki insisted on since it was a "big group sleepover" - and pretending to read one of his text books.
Somehow, that statement got the first honest reaction out of Harry that Kyouya had seen the entire visit. Harry's eyes were a little wide, his brow furrowed, and his mouth twisted to the side in confusion. "Why would I dislike Takashi-san?"
"But you didn't talk to him even once!" Tamaki gaped. "You even talked to the kouhai, but you were being rude to Mori-senpai!"
Another honest reaction came from Harry: a vaguely bemused look with an underlying thread of pain and sadness. "Well, of course I didn't talk to him; I like him, and that's the entire problem. I'm going to go brush my teeth."
With that non-sequitur, Harry departed the room.
Kyouya furrowed his brow. Harry liked Mori... and that was the problem? That made no sense. Harry liked Kyouya and Tamaki just fine, and he obviously liked Hermione and Neville, so why would Mori specifically... It took a moment, but Kyouya realized the underlying truth. He knew Harry was bisexual - it would have been hard not to when Harry wrote him in late '03 about his conflicting crushes on the captain of a rival sports team, Wood, and a girl in his house, Hannah.
"Why would a crush make him wary?" Kyouya didn't even realize he was going to say it aloud until he already had, and it was too late to take it back. He noticed Hermione and Neville exchange glances and nods.
"Well, Harry did open up on the matter first," Hermione sighed. "We can tell you a little, but neither of you can tell anyone else. René, that means you can't tell Haruhi." Both of the meddlesome Brits tended to go yobisute easily, but Hermione at least asked permission first. "Harry is wary of Takashi-kun because he's afraid."
Kyouya wracked his mind. Afraid? Why should Harry be afraid? Was he intimidated? Or was he afraid that any advances he might make would be rebuffed? These thoughts, however, did not gain a voice.
"See, Harry had his first boyfriend back in fourth year - er, I guess it's third-year middle school equivalent, but our school was combined both sections," Neville started. "Really nice bloke too; he was considered the most popular guy in the school. They were in the same House and specialized in the same position on the... soccer team, but the other guy took a different position since Harry was really good at it."
"And they were both selected as competitors for a tournament your school was hosting," Kyouya continued effortlessly. "We're already aware of this. Harry doesn't omit much from his letters."
"Right, well, the guy, Diggory Cedric, died in the final task of the tournament, right after he and Harry had tied," Neville shifted uneasily in his seat. "I suppose you know about that, too? Well, Harry blamed himself for it, since the guy who attacked them was after him, not Cedric."
"Do you know about Charlie?" Hermione asked.
"Yes, the older man Harry started dating a year ago," Tamaki answered quickly.
"Well... he died too," Hermione didn't look at either of them. "About two weeks ago, give or take a few days. He was kidnapped by terrorists who had a grudge against Harry's family, and they video taped Charlie being tortured and sent Harry one film a day for three months before he received the snuff film."
Kyouya did not move. He didn't do so much as blink. The crack on his mask grew longer until it split entirely, and he stared, horrified, and the people seated before him.
One word came to mind.
Fuck.
(To be continued...)
Author's Note: Um... yeah. When I came up with the idea, this was supposed to be a oneshot. Part 1 got out of control, so I revised the idea to make it a three-shot. Only, what you see here is only half of what Part 2 was supposed to entail, and I'm not keen on making such a monster chapter right now (it's ridiculously hot. like, 102 to 105 for several days. I'm a 60-70 degrees kinda girl, and usually Oregon complies, but no air conditioning=dead me). I'm trying to think up an occasion in August for me to post the rest of what Part 2 was to be, and I should post something on September 1st. It looks like this will end up being 5 parts... maybe I should have just made it a proper story -_-" At least I can extend the plot properly this way (yeah, it has some real plot, not just "Harry isn't happy anymore and doesn't wanna love Takashi". You can probably get a good gauge of the plot from a certain something in this chapter...).
I actually realized about mid-chapter that Hermione is older than Kyouya (by about two months). I was amused. Why? Because these are my intended pairings (mostly side) for the story: Mori/Harry (duh, main pairing of course), Kingsley/Lily (I figure she's had a few boyfriends), Sirius/Ranka (Kotoko divorced with Ranka, but they're still friends and have a healthy relationship that way), Tamaki/Haruhi (which I hate, but it works with the girlier Haruhi), and Kyouya/Hermione. There should also be mention of Neville/Luna at some point, but I'm not sure.
Anyway, Happy Birthday to Neville. Why? Because there's something else I'd been intending to post for Harry's birthday, so I'll post it tomorrow. 'Course, I haven't started writing it yet... but it'll be up. Promise. If anyone can tell me a good HP or Ouran-related thing that occurs in August (preferably mid-to-late) for Part 3, that'd be appreciated!
(1) In the manga, chapters 70-72, there's been mention of an unnamed university that most Ouran students attend that has many high-level departments. Since it's not mentioned by name (or, if it is, it wasn't in the translated scanlations), I just called it Ouran University for simplicity's sake.
(2) This is a reference to an omake from the manga where we get to properly meet Team Kyouya. Tachibana and the other two members of the bodyguard (and whatever the hell else they are) team are highly devoted to Kyouya and his happiness. Kyouya's thought here isn't exaggerating by much.
(3) It's a Japanese snack called Hello Panda (thanks to KounetsuDeb for giving me the name!), and they're really yummy. Sort of like inside-out pocky with a lot of creme.