Chapter Ten - Tea With The Wizard

Bel sat quietly on the plane, twirling his favourite knife between his fingers, making it whirl faster and faster. If he slipped up and cut himself he knew that Squalo had a sedative prepared, but then he probably wouldn't wake up in time to see Harry. He didn't know whether he wanted the knife to slip or not.

Squalo hadn't wanted him to come. He had argued that it should be just him as the leader and Mammon as the magic expert. Lussuria had pouted at being left behind, but as the second in command after Squalo, he had acquiesced with a surprising lack of protest. Bel supposed it made sense; Lussuria didn't like being confronted with opponents that couldn't be fought physically. Of course, Levi had been left behind. As the one who had incited Harry's anger, having him present would only be inflammatory. It wasn't like he would have anything of value to add to the conversation anyway. Squalo had wanted to leave Bel behind with them, but Bel had refused. Squalo wasn't used to seeing him serious, without giggling and invoking his royal status. In another circumstance, Bel would have enjoyed the look of shock on his face. Stupid Captains shouldn't underestimate Princes.

He was an assassin, one of the best in the world. He had gone from a ward of the Vongola to a Varia in less than a week. He had slaughtered his entire family, and would be a King as soon as he accepted the title – not that he ever would. Not even ruling a country would entice him to leave the Varia. Not unless Boss told him to, and Boss had promised that he wouldn't.

That had been what had won Bel's loyalty, in the end. He had been a messed-up eight year old, running from his home, searching for another high like the one he'd got from killing Rasiel. He was a genius, he had known that the Vongola would use him and manipulate him. He had been prepared to play the game, to win allies, to throw himself into the politics he hated just so he could have his fix, that moment when the blood flowed and the world came into focus and everything was perfect. But that Boss had swooped in, a sixteen year old with rage in his eyes and fire in his hands. He had promised Bel that if he followed, if he obeyed, if he was loyal, he would have all the blood he wanted. He would never be bored. That was enough to tie him to the Varia. But when Boss had found him crying, and sat with him instead of yelling at him for being weak, when Boss had promised that he would never, ever be sent away, that was when Bel had known that he would follow Boss to the ends of the earth.

That was what Bel did. He made his choice and stuck to it. He had known that moment that he set eyes on Levi that they wouldn't get on, like he had known that he would make Mammon his friend if it bankrupted him. He had been happy with the Varia in a way that he had never been before, until Harry came.

Harry didn't treat him like an adult or as a child, but just as himself, as a person. He liked that Squalo treated him as just another Officer, but it was hard sometimes. It was frustrating, to be treated like a child, with homework and bedtimes, and then like an adult with responsibility and blame, and no one to lean on. Harry had treated him like just Bel. He hadn't been put off by the blood and the laughter and his genius. He had just rolled with it, acting like Bel had always wanted an older brother to act. Before Harry, Lussuria had come closest to the older sibling role, but even he had never really fit. Harry was different. He was bright and strong and not a threat. He did homework and cooked whatever Bel asked for, and was so impressed by Bel's tricks. He was perfect, and Bel wanted to keep him forever. It wasn't even that hard to resist the urge to cut him, to make him bleed and squirm and go still. Was this what Mammon was talking about when she said that he would meet someone special, and want to do fun things with them that didn't involve knives? He hadn't thought it was possible before Harry.

But then Harry had left. Just like that. He had overwhelmed Bel completely. He had been helpless, pinned down and silent. Not even Mother had ever been able to immobilise him so thoroughly. He had been so careless, writing the civilian off as harmless! So weak, to be swayed by emotions. Of course he would go running for his civilian boy, leaving Bel behind. Why would he choose some helpless brat over a Prince? Clearly he wasn't worth the effort Bel had invested.

He thrust his knife into the seat beside him, slashing the cover and growling with frustration when all that was revealed was white stuffing. It wasn't the same when there was no blood. Making Harry bleed would make him feel better, blood always did. So why did the thought of hurting him twist him up inside?

Bel was jerked out of his thoughts by the plane landing. Squalo made him stow his knives as they did the whole meet-and-greet thing with the English Family that was letting them use their runway. Apparently when he didn't, he looked too threatening. Bel had been slightly offended at the idea that he needed knives to look threatening.

It didn't take them long to finish the political niceties and get into the car. Squalo, as the only one with a licence, was driving. Mammon was next to Bel in the back. Bel closed his eyes and let his circling thoughts carry him off into sleep. One day he would figure out why cars turned him into a narcoleptic.

Mammon woke him a couple of hours later, as they pulled up to a cute little country house. She promptly demanded payment for the service, which he grudgingly handed over. It wasn't as if he had any better use for the money, or even spent it at all, but he still didn't like parting with it. Squalo was already striding up to the front door and knocking loudly while Bel scrambled out of the back seat.

The door opened on the second knock, and Harry's voice called for them to enter. Bel gave the self-opening door a hard look as he walked through it. He was used to things like that, seeing as he trained with Mammon when Squalo commanded her to as part of her contracted duties or when Bel paid her for a session, but it was still creepy. Especially as he was still reorganising his worldview to fit 'all-powerful Wizard' together with 'older brother' and 'skilled but non-threatening civilian'.

The room Harry had called them to was a sitting room, with a couple of squashy sofas and an armchair currently occupied by Harry. Bel had his knives in his hands when he saw Harry draw his wand. He watched carefully as the Wizard waved it, and didn't relax when all that happened was a tea tray floating to the table in the middle of the room. Harry sighed and placed his wand on the table; Bel took that as his cue to stow his knives. No point in being hostile just yet.

"We know about Magic, Wizard," Squalo started off the discussion. "We apologise for any distress caused by our monitoring of your Family."

Bel hummed slightly. It seemed that Squalo was treating this as a negotiation with a possibly hostile non-allied Family. It was probably the safest route to take, but it made that twisty feeling in his chest come back. He scowled. He did not like these feelings! As soon as this was done, he was taking the bloodiest job that Squalo had available, and he wasn't stopping until even his eyelashes were soaked with gore.

"Please, call me Harry. And I think that my retaliation had already settled that debt between us."

"Not quite," Mammon interjected before the conversation could move away. "What spells did you cast on the Headquarters?"

Harry grinned slightly. Damn that twisty feeling! It was the same smile that he had worn as they plotted their revenge against Squalo. It meant that whatever he had cast was potentially embarrassing, but nothing too threatening. Harry told them as much, but Squalo didn't look reassured. Of course, the long-haired Captain was the one with first-hand experience of Harry's 'harmless' tricks.

"We are in a somewhat tricky position," Mammon said. It seemed like Squalo was happy to let her take over the conversation. "You see, the Mafia is bound by Omerta, a code of silence. To have a civilian aware of us and not affiliated with anyone is," she paused, "a concern."

"I see," Harry said calmly. He busied himself for a moment with making tea, from the teapot that poured itself. Of course, Bel shook his head when he was offered a drink, as did the others. Assassins didn't take refreshments from potential hostiles unless there was no alternative.

"I propose a contract between us," Mammon continued, when it became clear that Harry wasn't going to offer anything else. "You would essentially be an outside agent, under the protection of the Varia."

"I'd be more than willing to negotiate," Harry told her calmly.

What followed was half an hour of some of the most brutal negotiations Bel had ever seen. They argued back and forth over clauses, sub-clauses, exact wording, specifics responsibilities, exceptions, opt-outs and everything else. It was a brave person who argued things like this with Mammon – Bel had spent a few evenings helping Mammon with contracts just to keep his hand in, and the way she crafted them was a work of art. Harry was just barely holding his own, but at the end there was something that they both seemed happy with. Essentially, Harry would pass on any gossip from the Wizarding world that concerned the Mafia, provided it didn't break any oaths he had already sworn or put him, his Family or innocents in danger. In return, the Varia would protect him against the Mafia should he ask for their aid, and inform of threats to him and the Wizarding world from the Mafia. Several times Bel had wanted to jump in and join the discussion, but he couldn't find the words. Being tongue-tied was another Harry-exclusive feeling that he didn't like.

It was only as they were leaving that Bel gathered up the courage to speak.

"Why didn't you leave?" he asked, as they stood in the doorway. "You could have popped out any time you wanted, but you didn't. Why did you stay?"

Harry smiled at him, and Bel knew that he was hearing all the things he wasn't saying. Did you actually care about me? Were you just playing with me?

"At first I couldn't leave. Head injuries play havoc with Magic, and I didn't want to leave a part of myself behind."

Bel scowled and started to walk out the door. He had known it would be something like that.

"But then," Harry continued, "I realised that I liked spending time with you. Squalo and Lussuria were fun to spend time with, but I became invested in you before I realised it, Prince Bel. I know that assassins don't have friends, but,"

"Ushishishi!" Bel's laugh had never felt so forced. He refused to turn back to harry, refused to look at the Wizard's face. "That's right. The Prince doesn't need friends."

He clutched Mammon to his chest as he let Squalo steer him out the door.

This was supposed to a fight, with the Varia trying to drag Harry back. Then Bel took over.